Kuro to Gin
by tamagopants
Summary: [Post AC][YazooxTifa] Rescue, forgiveness and safety, Yazoo is lucky enough to meet someone who gives him all three. A story of one clone's struggles of losing everything and getting it back.
1. Aid

**A/N:** Since this fic's set after Advent Children, there are spoilers, so be warned. For those of you who are familiar with my other fanfic, you'll know that Yazoo is my favourite character. This fic is centralised around a Yazoo/Tifa pairing. I don't know what you'd call that (Tifoo, Yazifa etc. all sound stupid), plus it's a rare coupling. Please read anyway, and let me know what you think.

**Note: **The SHM are results of experiments in this fic rather than being Sephiroth's will. This is the only AU aspect of the fic :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything – it's all Square Enix's. If I did though, I would've made Yazoo the star of the movie.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver **

**Chapter 1: Aid**

The wind was chilly and biting, and there was a silence that felt as though it ought not to be there. Tonight was certainly no night to be sitting out on an empty stretch of road, so in her defence, Tifa Lockheart wasn't expecting to trip over someone's outstretched leg. She caught herself before she fell to the ground, and turning around, found someone on the ground, looking as though he was merely resting. However, as she leaned in a little closer, she realised that was not the case.

His sprawled body was a mixture of torn leather and dried blood, and there was a smell around him that was similar to that of something burning. Tifa dropped to her knees immediately, taking the man's hand and bringing her face close to his. She pushed back the strands of the greyish fringe, looking into dim eyes.

"Hang on there," she said, "I'm going to get help."

She took out her cell phone and pressed keys frantically. Tifa growled lowly as she brought the phone to her ear. She should have guessed that Vincent's phone was off. Next was Yuffie's number, which Tifa dialled whilst eyeing the stranger lying next to her.

The slight movement of the stranger's chest meant that he was breathing at least, and Tifa sighed quietly with relief. She studied his face absently. Under the dark smudges of grey and dull red, Tifa suspected the man was remarkably handsome. Despite lying on the ground helplessly, there was something about him that was graceful and elegant. His torn and tattered clothes hinted that his hands once wore tight gloves, and strapped round his shoulders and crossing over the chest was the remains of what looked like a gun holster.

Tifa jumped as Yuffie answered loudly, "Yeah, Tifa? What's up? Have you bought too much stuff, and need help lugging it all back or something?"

"…Well, not really." Tifa looked over at her abandoned shopping bags, and then at the pair of eyes that were now watching her hazily. "I need you to get Vincent down here for me, just outside the drug store. There's a man…h-he's really hurt, attacked o-or something. I haven't a clue to what I should do…"

"Okay, I'll get him down there to have a look."

* * *

Whilst waiting, Tifa had taken a rather feeble approach in comforting the stranger, who she was now propping up against a lamppost and patting his shoulder softly. In the instance she did though, the stranger, through gritted teeth and with a low voice, muttered, "Get off me."

Tifa did so, knowing all too well that injured men with a potential amount of ego were bound to be spiteful to a helping hand. Vincent would be able to help her once he arrived – he was level headed in all situations, he'd know whether to take the man to the hospital or back to 7th Heaven…

The man shifted uncomfortably, and by instinct, Tifa made to place a reassuring hand on his arm, but she withdrew just in time. The stranger's head moved slightly, and the long hair that hid his face from Tifa swayed limply. The tresses were a dull grey in colour. Tifa would've thought he was an old man if it wasn't for the exposure of smooth skin through his torn leather uniform. There was the faint sound of something metallic contacting the pavement, and Tifa beckoned for Vincent to come over.

"He's here, Vincent…I thought perhaps the hospital, but I've got the children's dinner to do as well as the bar, so I then wondered if it would be better if we brought him back with us, he doesn't seem to talk much, I think maybe…"

"Tifa, you shouldn't worry yourself so much." His voice, as ever, was low and composed, speaking with no patronising tone. "We'll take him back, and work it out from there."

His red gaze rested on the stranger, and though he rarely showed emotion, Tifa was sure she saw Vincent's eyes narrow somewhat. It could have been the trick of the light, bathed in the orange light of the streetlamp, but as Vincent spoke again, he seemed a lot more firm with her. "…Do you know this man, Tifa?"

Tifa blinked. "...Not as far as I know."

Vincent reached out with his good hand, tilting the stranger's head so that it was illuminated by the light. And Tifa saw what Vincent was getting at, for now, clearly lit up and staring at her furiously, were a pair of bright green, slitted eyes. She had seen those very eyes before, two years ago, embedded in the harsh face of Sephiroth, and two weeks ago, where a burly man had burst in on Aerith's church. Vincent was watching her.

"I…" she started. "…Cloud said that they were all – "

" – dead," Vincent completed with a knowing nod. Tifa suddenly noticed how cold it was, and bit her lower lip. Eyeing her companion, who was waiting for her answer patiently, she murmured, "We can't just leave him, I couldn't do something like that…but Cloud…if he's okay with it…"

Vincent stared at her square in the eye. "Ultimately, it is your decision, not his. You spend more time at 7th Heaven and with the children."

"Everything the three did," Tifa said, casting a glance at the clone sitting against the lamppost lifelessly, "do you think they can just forget it all, and learn from it? They hurt people, kidnapped children…"

"It's your choice, Tifa."

* * *

Cloud was still staring. He had done so for the past fifteen minutes, gazing down at the sleeping form of the clone. As peaceful and serene he looked now, Cloud knew all to well how deadly one of Kadaj's henchmen could get when they were awake. He rubbed the side of his head tiredly. He had spent a lot of his day running his delivery service, and on coming back home, he was not prepared for an anxious Tifa to show someone very unexpected sleeping in his bed. Cloud was undoubtedly very annoyed, but a part of him, like Tifa, knew that if he was to show the same coldness Kadaj and his brothers had done, it would only lead to another fight. And enough people had been hurt.

Cloud's stomach lurched unwillingly as he recalled Kadaj's last moments. An all too eager youngster who was merely looking for someone for compassion. Cloud tore his eyes away from his bed and its occupant, making for the door, wallowing once again in his guilt for another death.

When he arrived back downstairs, noticing Marlene and Denzel out the corner of his eye, he joined Tifa in the bar. He could see she was nervous for his answer. Sat on one of the barstools was Yuffie, who had helped herself to a drink and was now eyeing Cloud with forced patience.

"I…" Cloud started. He frowned as Yuffie leaned forwards even more, her elbow banging against her glass that was threatening to tip over. "…So long as he doesn't cause trouble…"

Yuffie grinned. "See, Tifa? If Cloud's fine with it, no worries. He can help us with the decorating, you know, the more the merrier. That's why I'm here."

"You didn't come here for the decorating," Tifa smiled, her eyes moving in the direction of a red caped figure standing at the back of the bar motionlessly. She turned back to Cloud whilst drying up several plates. "At first, I was worried about what he might do, but he's hurt, he's…lost everything, really."

"Tifa, you're just too kind," Yuffie nodded her head for emphasis. "Refill, please."

Tifa took Yuffie's glass, and absently refilling it, she muttered to Cloud, "It's not like he's Kadaj or Sephiroth."

"I know," Cloud responded vaguely. "I wouldn't put it past him to be dangerous though. The last time I saw him, he had a gun, but now…"

"Vincent got there first, he took the gun away." Yuffie spoke proudly, as if she was the one who had retrieved the weapon. Her dark grey eyes made a movement towards Vincent, but it was so slight, only Tifa noticed it.

* * *

Tifa had really taken to taking care of the injured man. As soon as she had closed the bar, she took up the already prepared meal to Cloud's room. She was certain that after a sufficient amount of rest and having his wounds tended to, he would wake up and be more open. Indeed, as she pushed the door open with her back and brought in the neatly arranged tray of food, the stranger's eyes were wide open, watching her in a similar fashion to how Vincent's eyes always stared.

"I hope you slept well," Tifa started, setting the tray down, "you were quite battered when we found you."

"…Where's Loz?"

"Who?" Tifa said blankly. Then, faint recollections of the muscular man in the church flashed in her mind. Of course this clone would be worried about his brother. But Tifa…she had only found him, there was no sign of this Loz…

She opened her mouth to say something that was meant to be reassuring, but she faltered as the green eyes fixed their gaze on her piercingly, searching her. "…I'm Tifa," she chose to say after a few moments. "We're…already looking for Loz. Here, you should eat something. Perhaps you could tell me what happened over these last two weeks. What shall I call you?"

"…Yazoo." He spoke grudgingly but softly, a low gentle tone that Tifa assumed was his natural voice. In fact, she noted, the anger etched on his face was a close match to that of Sephiroth's, only less…genuine. And the hair, some of which was now showing its proper silver colour, was just as ethereal and sleek like the General's.

Tifa sat on the edge of the bed with evident hesitance, reaching for the tray of food. No sooner than she did though, did Yazoo's hand reach out weakly, and with effort he must have been saving up until now, he swiped at the tray. The plate, fork and a tidily folded napkin crashed onto the floor. Tifa leapt onto her feet, suddenly afraid. She could hear the sounds of chairs scraping downstairs, and seconds later, a low rumbling growing louder and louder could only suggest people were running up the stairs.

The door flung open, swinging on its hinges dangerously. Yuffie was the first in, followed by Cloud.

"Tifa, are you okay?" Cloud asked. His azure gaze travelled from her to the mess on the floor, and then to Yazoo, who was now forcing himself to sit up. Yuffie stuck her nose up in contempt, shaking her head.

"She was only trying to help, you ought to be grateful you're getting a second chance after everything you've done…"

"Yuffie that's enough." Vincent (who Tifa hadn't noticed because he was only just about visible in the hallway) spoke firmly. Tifa looked nervously from Cloud to Yazoo. The two were staring at each other with mutual discomfort, and with the awkwardness intensifying, Tifa began to wonder if this was a good idea. She caught Vincent's eye, and felt a small amount of reassurance on noticing that he seemed relatively unworried. She bent down, clearing up the tray slowly, feeling Yazoo's eyes on her. Vincent and Yuffie joined her, picking up the pieces of the shattered plate.

* * *

**A/N:** Gah, 1st chapters are always so hard to write. I hope it wasn't too painful to read – I obviously can't have YazooxTifa straight away, so please be patient and review!

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	2. Grief

**A/N:** Thank you for reviews, people! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any characters at all.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 2: Grief**

Yazoo, over the course of a long night, had constantly switched from consciousness to unconsciousness, plunging into the dark depths of a recurring dream. A huge explosion, excruciating pain as he and a muscular man with short silver hair were blasted backwards. Yazoo had woken up many times during what seemed like an eternal night, gasping the names of his brothers desperately, sweat running down his face.

He sat up slowly. Taking in the strange surroundings of a bare room with only a desk, chair and bed, Yazoo wiped his eyes with filthy hands, feeling a lump in his throat. It was very rare for Yazoo to feel afraid, but the stomach churning sensation he was feeling, his hands shaking uncontrollably, fear was overwhelming him by the minute.

Yazoo swallowed. Where his leather outfit was meant to be, there was now a cotton set of pyjamas that were slightly too big for him. And where his two brothers, Kadaj and Loz, were meant to be, there was now the unwanted presence of odd people trying to help him. People who had stopped Kadaj's reunion, killed him and his dreams.

With some struggling, Yazoo got out of bed, crossing the room barefoot and opening a half closed door. He stepped onto a small landing, and judging by the slight darkness and the absence of noise, he guessed that it was the early morning, and no one was awake yet. However, on reaching the bottom of the stairs, there was a faint but audible sound of plates tinkling, and tilting his head (cringing at the sudden pain rushing down his neck), he found that in fact, many people had woken up long before he had. To his growing dismay, he found that the hushed atmosphere was due to his intrusion in this home; he was intruding on a conversation, a family, a home. He edged nearer to the door, fidgeting, debating with himself whether to just turn and run.

The woman who had tried to offer him some food yesterday was gathering dishes carefully, chipping in softly to a conversation between two men. Yazoo's stomach flipped uncomfortably as he saw Cloud sat on a barstool, talking lowly to a red caped man. Opposite the two, leaning across the bar was a teenage girl. Yazoo was about to turn away when two children hurried past him, gone around the corner without even noticing him. Then, a girl stuck her head round, large brown eyes studying him. Her blonde ponytail, which had been tied up with a red scrunchie, swung innocently.

"If you're hungry, you can just go in the bar," she said, "Tifa's food is great."

And with that, she was gone again, off to find her companion, Yazoo assumed. He picked at his cotton shirt nervously, eyeing the bar and then the tempting stairs where he could just go back up and hide. Then again, he _was_ hungry, and the sweet smell wafting in the air was rather inviting. He stepped into the bar, determinedly ignoring the children falling silent and the teenage girl's audible gasp. He looked over at Cloud, but found that oddly – and annoying Yazoo quite frankly – the blonde had made no sign to acknowledge that he had seen him.

"Morning." Someone greeted him, a soft, gentle voice but layered with evident anxiety. It was the black haired woman serving food, carrying plates whilst ruffling the hair of a young boy. Tifa, was she? Tifa, who had introduced herself, offered a generous meal and allowed for him to recover here? He stared at her wordlessly, almost sleepily, taking in her deep brown eyes, amiable smile and curvaceous figure (her chest, Yazoo noted rather absently, was that even average size?).

"Good morning Yazoo," the teenager suddenly spoke up, now perched on a barstool with a glass of milk in one hand. Yazoo looked over at her. The red capred man gave a curt nod as a form of greeting. It seemed that the others were following Tifa's politeness, and feeling he ought to say something, Yazoo opened his mouth, but faltered as Cloud stood up.

"I'll be off then, Tifa." He headed out of the bar, once again looking nowhere near to where Yazoo was stood. Yazoo shot a fierce glare at Cloud's back, hate welling up inside of him.

"Take care," came Tifa's reply. Yazoo studied his feet, seeing the dirty toes and ankles, smeared with black smudges. The forced air in the bar was making him nervous, and even with Cloud gone, it was not going away. Tifa must have noticed the apprehension, for she quickly said, "Here, have some breakfast, you must be hungry. These two are Yuffie and Vincent by the way."

Yuffie gestured to the barstool next to her whilst Tifa set down a plate of bacon and eggs, and the man named Vincent took out a knife and fork from a nearby pot. Yazoo was partly overwhelmed at the unexpected hospitality, but mainly, he was furious at such patronising behaviour. Nevertheless, he was famished, and with impatience, he took a few mouthfuls, feeling better already.

No sooner than he did though, did he slow down his eating, and choked awkwardly at a nauseous sensation inside of him. He swallowed. The warm, tasty breakfast left a sickening taste in his mouth. Suddenly, it didn't look half as nice as it did before. The fingers loosely gripping his fork began trembling again, and the length of metal clattered against the plate with a clear tinkle. Three people were staring at him, concern and worry shining in their eyes, but Yazoo felt more alone than ever.

He didn't want Tifa's cooking, he wanted Loz's. It was Kadaj who sat next to him, not Yuffie. His eyes were burning, and everything in front of him was blurring. He blinked rapidly, forcing himself not to cry. There was no need to. He wasn't afraid. He didn't need to be afraid. He'd recover as soon as possible, and leave to find Loz and Kadaj. They were lost, that was all. Kadaj always had a bad sense of direction, no matter how much he tried to deny it. And Loz was no better either.

He looked down at the counter he sat at. There were several drops. Hot tears that had fallen from the bitter recognition that he was telling himself what he wanted to hear.

Kadaj and Loz weren't lost. They were gone.

Confusion swept through him as he struggled to juggle so many pressing matters in his head. He was curious about these new people, he was grief stricken by the deaths of his brothers, and he was enraged that Cloud wouldn't even look at him, let alone apologise.

One minute, he had everything he needed, and everything made sense. Then, it vanished completely. Gone was everything he had ever known, and to replace it, nothing but fear.

"Tifa?" Yazoowas pulled out from his thoughts as a child's voice spoke up. He recognised her face and voice from somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "His bath's ready."

"Thanks, Marlene." Opposite him, Tifa smiled and put away the last dishes in the cupboard behind her. "Come on Yazoo, why don't you get cleaned up, and when you're feeling up to eating, you can eat."

She walked round the counter with sudden enthusiasm, and with admirable strength Yazoo thought she'd never have, she hoisted him onto his unsteady legs, serving very slightly as someone to lean on. She took him to the bathroom, taking equally slow steps as he did, one hand taking hold of his arm, but Yazoo was in no mood to push her off so that their contact was broken, or even a small verbal lashing.

The bathroom immediately roused some sort of momentary ease in him, as the smell of hot water and a light herbal scent floated around him. The mirrors on the light blue wall had misted over from the rising steam, and it seemed that the child – Marlene – had laid out two fresh towels, soap and shampoo on an edge table. Why were complete strangers being so kind to him after everything he did to them? A trap, or was this genuine forgiveness?

"Oh, she forgot your new clothes," Tifa said. "I got you a sweater, and a pair of jeans Cloud doesn't wear anymore. You'll probably need a belt too, you're unhealthily skinny. I'll go fetch them."

She left, and as she did, Yazoo realised that he hadn't taken in most of what she had said. Something about a sweater and Cloud. He closed the door, listening to its small click. He locked it as well, glad for some time by himself, some time to think straight.

He got in the bath gracelessly, wincing from the pain in his muscles. He settled down, feeling the relaxing pleasure of the water drowning the aches and strains. He was not at all surprised that within minutes, the bath water had been dyed black from the dirt over him, shampoo bubbles that had been tinted grey resting on top. Yazoo could have fallen asleep whilst he was in the tub, but he was becoming cold, and once again, the stomach was growling in protest.

Getting out and dressing himself in the cotton pyjamas again, the ticking clock on the wall informed him that he had spent over three hours in the bath. He attempted to tidy his wet hair as much as he could in the absence of a hairbrush, pleased that the tresses now had their full silver colour rather than the dull grey.

He unlocked the door quietly, stepping out into the hallway, which he assumed was going to be empty. To his mild surprise though, standing several feet away and seemingly finding the grey tiled floor rather interesting was Vincent. Some sort of fabric was hanging over his arm. Yazoo continued to look, and Vincent's head jerked up. Neither said nothing. With them both rather stunned at the prospect of having to start a conversation, it was nearly a minute before Vincent succumbed, and explained in a deep tone Yazoo had to concentrate quite hard to hear, "…Your clothes. Tifa asked me to give them to you."

Yazoo blinked. He had locked the door whilst taking the bath. And with over three hours spent in the bathroom, did that mean that this Vincent had stood in the hallway, doing absolutely nothing except hold clothes like a human washing line?

"…Thank you," Yazoo muttered. He was quite shocked to say the least at this man's patience. He took the clothes, deciding to be passive for the moment. The jeans were crisp and neatly folded and the sweater felt warm and comfortable against his fingertips. They weren't exactly clothes Yazoo was used to wearing, but they were better than nothing. Eyes that had previously been stinging with tears of grief now displayed a very slight recognition of gratitude.

"Tifa's busy," Vincent said. "So she asked me to tell you that it's important you dress in warm clothes and eat something."

Yazoo stared at the crimson orbs eyeing him from behind the dark fringe of hair. "…Okay," he mumbled. He followed Vincent grudgingly, down to the bar once again, where this time, where Yazoo was expecting for it to be empty, was filled with children eating their lunch together. He could see why Tifa was busy, working away behind the counter making lunch. She was on the telephone at the same time, propping the item against her ear with a raised shoulder. Yuffie wasn't around by the looks of it, and absently, Yazoo noted how busy yet happy everyone seemed to be. He and his brothers had one sole purpose and ambition; this household seemed to be bustling with different aspirations, where people lived to do many things.

A child was smiling over at Vincent stood next to him. The one from earlier named Marlene. It was a few seconds before Yazoo realised she was smiling at _him_. And so was the boy with messy brown hair. Yazoo blinked, utterly thrown. She was eating the crust of her sandwich before the middle part, just like how Kadaj ate his sandwiches…the boy next to Marlene was eating so ravenously, he was sticking his fingers in his mouth, just like how Loz did…he could see his brothers…he could actually see them.

* * *

**A/N:** What do you think? Let me know in a review! My next chapter should have a bit more interaction between the characters. This chapter was basically a run through of Yazoo's confuzzled brain. 


	3. Recovery

**A/N:** Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter :) I even had an offer for a fanart to be drawn of it. The link is in my profile – thank you very much to **Sansy** who drew it :)! This chapter has a bit of Yuffentine in it, for those of you who like it. If not, don't worry, it won't kill you. Vincent and Yuffie's relationship is kinda crucial to this fic :) You'll see.

**Disclaimer: **Characters are all copyright to Square-Enix.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 3: Recovery**

In the late afternoon, Tifa was clearing up as usual. She was accustomed to be tidying by herself several hours before the bar opened, whilst the children ran off to play and Cloud was out on his delivery services. Yuffie and Vincent, who were staying round 7th Heaven to help her with the decorating, were outside in the hallway, taking down what was left of the faded wallpaper by the stairs.

However, it was good to have company for once as she cleaned, for sat at one of the tables was Yazoo. He had spent the hours since his bath seated on one of the barstools, gazing lifelessly at the dark counter. His wet hair, which had slowly dried in the cool air of the bar, now hung limply either side of his face, tousled and unbrushed. He had put on his fresh clothes without a fuss, long legs clad in Cloud's jeans. They were a tad too big for him, where the bottom of the trousers nearly covered his feet. The sweater Tifa had given him was loose around his shoulders, and again, slightly oversized. Delicate fingers had taken hold of the ends of his sleeves, keeping a firm grip on them so that he had hidden as much of his hands as he could.

Occasionally, Yazoo's eyes would flicker and look over at Tifa as she tidied the bar. She would offer him a smile, but no sooner than he looked at her, he'd look away and pretend he hadn't. Knowing that he preferred the silence and wanted to be left with just his thoughts, Tifa had set down a glass of water before him. It remained untouched, still as ever on one of the coasters.

The early evening came, and Yazoo had gone without saying a single word to her. Tifa assumed that he was still severely affected by the loss of his brothers and being landed abruptly in a place full of people who used to be his enemies. Even Yuffie, who was often oblivious to others' true feelings, knew of the misery surrounding the clone, but Tifa had to admit, Cloud was being a bit tactless.

The blonde returned from work just before the bar opened, giving a curt nod to her and ignoring Yazoo looking up at him.

"Any luck?" Tifa asked. Cloud merely shook his head before walking through the bar and out of sight. Tifa sighed. She knew it was difficult for Cloud since Yazoo had such a striking resemblance to Sephiroth. But that was just it. It was a _resemblance_. Yazoo and his brothers had been hurt by Sephiroth just as much as she had, as Cloud had.

Tifa had really hoped that Cloud would come back tonight ready with good news, news that would surely bring a smile to Yazoo's expressionless face, and tell the clone he was sorry for his loss. But of course, that was just wishful thinking. It was going to take a while for Yazoo to warm up to anyone, let alone Cloud. And the blonde himself, had shown quite pointedly what he thought of Yazoo in turn: that he was not there, he was non existent.

7th Heaven's door swung open and the first customers of the night strolled in. Tifa greeted them with her usual amiable smile, and Yazoo, who was virtually stock still on the barstool, came out of his faraway thoughts and craned his neck round to see the source of the sudden noise. Tifa noticed him and quickly headed over to him, moving his drink and putting it in the sink not too far away.

"You can stay here if you want, or you can go through the back. Either way, make sure you're feeling comfortable."

* * *

Yazoo, during his aimless wandering in his mind, had spent most of his time daydreaming pointlessly about Kadaj and Loz. He knew that Tifa was cleaning up, and that Cloud had habitually ignored him. The sounds of Vincent and Yuffie, along with the company of several children, tearing down the tattered wallpaper had long gone, and there was now the lively chatter of customers in the bar. 

On hearing Tifa next to him, her long hair brushing his shoulders very lightly, he was slightly startled, and didn't quite know how to deal with the increasing social bustle. He chose to get up and leave the bar, and Tifa, who had said a quiet goodnight to him, resumed her work, serving the customers.

Yazoo crossed the dimly lit bar, the sounds of his bare feet only just audible on the cold floor. He had chosen to go barefoot since the socks that had been given to him were too long, and made him have the awkward feeling that he was wearing stockings.

The staircase often caused a problem for Yazoo. Its narrowness meant that it was a struggle for two people to walk past each other, and the small steps made Yazoo exceptionally careful in ambling his way up them. His balance was still off and his head was throbbing with pain, but there was no way he was going to admit to it. With exhaustion but enough determination, Yazoo reached the landing.

Yuffie and Vincent were knelt down together facing a wall, peeling off the remaining strips of grey by the skirting board. For a few moments, Yazoo stood quietly and watched the two. They seemed quite content, kneeling there silently, tossing the paper into a waiting plastic bag and then turning back to the wall. Along the corridor, two children were comparing two rolls of fresh wallpaper, giggling. Yazoo recognised one of them as Marlene, the girl who appeared to be one of Tifa's favourites and more significantly, the one who had smiled at him without a single trace of fear or anxiety.

Yazoo turned back to Yuffie and Vincent. The girl had laughed softly, raising a hand.

"You've got a bit of paper in your hair, Vinnie."

It was a blissful scene, as Vincent murmured, "Then if you'd be so kind to take it out for me". It reminded Yazoo very strongly of himself and his brothers, yet something inside of him told him that this wasn't so much of a sibling love. Suddenly getting the feeling that he was intruding on something, Yazoo backed away to head down the other end of the corridor, but a telltale floorboard gave him away.

Immediately, the pair turned round to look at him, and Yazoo waited for something along the lines of "Go away!" but it didn't prevail. Yuffie grinned at him, gesturing to the stripped wall by her.

"We're helping Tifa redecorate, see. Cloud's business and 7th Heaven have earned them enough money to be able to create a better environment for the kids." Yuffie shook her head. "She's always worrying about other people. She ought to sort out that grim bar really, that's where the customers come in."

Marlene and her friend joined the three, still clutching the rolls of wallpaper. The sociability was getting a little too much for the clone, who had never had so many friendly faces staring at him. Every one of them failed to display anything that was remotely threatening, and, taken aback, Yazoo was well aware that he was beginning to look silly.

"Denzel and me chose the wallpapers – two sets." Marlene and the boy named Denzel held up the rolls. "One is for the landing, and the other one will be for the living room."

Yazoo managed a nod. What could he say? He wasn't part of this family, nor did he want to be. His family was his brothers, even when they were gone, he wouldn't forget them and latch onto some other group. To his right, Vincent stood up, his dark gaze settling to meet Yazoo's.

"You look much healthier," he commented lightly before stooping down to pick up the plastic bag that contained the scraps of wallpaper. Then without another word, he headed down the stairs.

"So what are you doing now?" Marlene asked eagerly. "Why are you up here? Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Yazoo had always known that children were so inquisitive, he had grown up alongside Kadaj after all, who was far too curious for his own good. But this Marlene, whose face was so familiar…she had such a carefree personality that could rival that of Loz's…

And what _was_ he going to do now? He had only escaped upstairs to avoid the noise from downstairs. But, as he just remembered with a sinking feeling, Cloud could be about anywhere, ready to pounce out at him and describe to him the gory details of Kadaj and Loz's deaths.

Yazoo knew he was being far too melodramatic, but it all stemmed from a simple wariness of Cloud. Yazoo was aloof and cold, but not enough so that he'd actually befriend his brothers' murderer. That would be an insult to them. Yet how could he explain why he was still staying with them?

"Hello?"

Yazoo started. The wavy haired boy, Denzel, was waving a hand.

"I just asked you if you'd like to play cards with us."

Cards? Yazoo had fallen into that familiar feeling of confusion. Marlene seemed to take his dazed expression as an answer in the affirmative, and with a wave of her hand, beckoned for Yazoo to follow after her. Yuffie, who Yazoo had completely forgotten was next to him, gave him a sly wink.

"I think I'll go join in too. I'll get Vinnie, you know, convince him to play too!"

From what Yazoo knew of Vincent, he didn't seem the type to want to join in a social game of cards, and he could understand that. He mentally smacked himself at his own idiocy, for he was able to start and finish fights and wield a gun with no fear whatsoever, and here he was, hemming and hawing outside a door, worrying himself sick over a game of stupid cards.

He had no choice but to go in as Yuffie returned, giving him a prod as she passed him. Behind her followed Vincent, who had his usual deadpan expression, but Yazoo swore that as they entered the room, a sigh had escaped from his lips.

The room they were in turned out to be a bedroom. It was relatively cosy due to its small size and the fact that everything seemed to be neatly arranged. In the corner was a single bed, its sheets creaseless and pristine, and on the far side, an elegant dressing table which looked suitable for none other than ladies. So putting two and two together, Yazoo figured that this must be Tifa's bedroom.

On the dressing table were numerous hair accessories which further supported Yazoo's assumption, and pinned on the wall were three drawings done by children. Yazoo couldn't quite tell what the pictures were trying to depict (he wasn't too sure whether the pictures themselves or his blurred eyesight was to blame), and Marlene, who had chosen to sit by him in the circle the group made on the floor, pointed at the wall and said, "The one in the middle's mine. That's a picture of me and Daddy, but he's busy at the moment."

Yuffie shuffled the cards expertly, dealing them out into five equal piles, whilst Vincent attempted to explain to Yazoo the rules and aims of Baccarat. Yazoo sat down awkwardly, as his jeans were awfully difficult to move around in and he couldn't stop thinking that he shouldn't be sitting in this circle.

"You take two cards. You want them to total nine, or get as close as possible to it." Vincent was speaking as though he had explained Baccarat a hundred times before, but just as he was about to continue, Yuffie cut in.

"You're making the game sound boring Vinnie." She punched his arm playfully. "You can change one of your cards if you need to. Aces are worth one, and the Kings, Queens, Jacks and Tens are worth zero."

Yazoo had no idea what Kings and Jacks and the like were, so he had no hope on getting anything right at all. But strangely, Vincent and Marlene, sat either side of him, persisted, and helped him out a little in changing cards or not. Yuffie on the other hand (and Yazoo had caught her on at least three occasions) had stolen sneaky glances at Denzel and Vincent's cards out of pure curiosity, stifling a giggle which later on, turned out to be initiated by finding out Vincent's cards had a grand total of two.

As the hours passed, Marlene and Denzel retreated to bed, and despite not having said much to them at all, Yazoo had taken a secret liking to the two of them, as well as Yuffie, Vincent and Tifa. Still, the grim thoughts of Cloud, the failure of his reunion with Mother, and the undeserved deaths of his brothers, Yazoo doubted he could ever be completely happy again.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for a late update – I'm working towards the end of another fic of mine, and I was a bit nervous about writing the Yuffentine bit. I hope it was subtle enough to not steal Yazoo's limelight. Conclusion to this chapter? That Yazoo's torn between his brothers and this surrogate family, and that Cloud's still being a jerk. 


	4. Kindness

**A/N:** Okay, so you guys survived the Yuffentine and are back for more of this story? Lucky you. This chapter is more of a Yazoo and Marlene one. Please take your time to read and review.

**Disclaimer: **Characters are all copyright to Square-Enix.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 4: Kindness**

The next afternoon was dull, even for a person who'd spent his days deliberately being dull after the loss of his brothers. Days of searching for his mother were gone, replaced by hours of doing nothing, feeling helpless and lost. Yazoo on the one hand, wished that he had never heard of his mother, so that perhaps, his brothers might still be with him. On the other hand, he partly wished their mission hadn't failed yet so that he had something to do at least. There was only so many times you could twirl a coaster round before it got boring. And Yazoo wasn't usually someone to get bored.

He felt immensely alone to be tagging after Cloud's bunch of followers half-heartedly, seeing in front of him young children rushing down the stairs for breakfast, asking him to join them. The comforts of seeing Kadaj in front of him and Loz beside him were long gone. Yazoo missed those little sniffs at his side and the obvious strut Kadaj had when he walked.

It was perhaps the longest time Yazoo felt he had ever been from the two of them, finding it impossible to count days, and instead, falling into the endless cycle of waking up, sleeping and then waking up again. It had been a long time, and, Yazoo reminded himself with hands fidgeting in the long sleeves of his jumper, it was going to carry on being the longest time.

Children were talking away behind him, eating their lunch whilst Yuffie sat at a nearby table, helping herself to some cookies (which were initially for the children) and offering them absently to Vincent. He, quite predictably, refused.

Tifa was behind the bar as usual, whilst Yazoo sat at it, staring at the coaster. He could remember all of the patterns on it now, as well as the words of the advertisement. Yazoo gained a small wash of comfort as he remembered a comic moment when he had entered a bar for information, and Kadaj, who was still rather young at the time, had insisted on coming with him. To see a boy of ten years of age wander into a bar, let alone one with malicious green eyes and otherworldly hair, surprised the bartender and his customers to say the least. However, Kadaj's grand entrance was somewhat tarnished when he found that he couldn't get on top of the barstool with any grace at all, and in his attempt, his foot promptly slipped and he fell to the floor.

Yazoo hadn't laughed quite heartily for a while, and as it turned out, it was one of those rare occasions where Kadaj found his misfortune funny rather than mortifying (whereby he'd have one of his tantrums that'd everyone in his vicinity would be able to hear word for word). The bartender, like so many other people, found Kadaj's antics to be that of a sweet, naïve little boy, and quite readily gave Yazoo the information he needed. Kadaj even got some juice for free.

His little brother. Yazoo's adorable little brother Kadaj.

His hands had started shaking again, and furious that he was showing such weakness, Yazoo dropped the coaster, hid his hands further up his sleeves and stuck them under the counter. Tifa was unwrapping something, and had noticed Yazoo's sudden movement. Yazoo assumed she was waited for him to look at her, since she had stopped moving too. He met her gaze.

"How are you feeling?"

What a difficult question. Yazoo didn't really know the answer himself as he contemplated his awkward situation. He stayed silent for a few moments, before murmuring, "...A little bit better."

"That's good," Tifa smiled, "Though you look tired still."

"I hate it when people say that," Yazoo said without thinking. "It's just a polite way of saying you look like shit."

Tifa laughed quietly, her head nodding to show agreement. Yazoo was enraged with himself for actually being humorous when it wasn't called for, and was glad when Tifa changed the topic.

"Marlene never stops talking about you. She loves meeting new people."

Yazoo was about to reply with the snide remark, "Even people who've killed others so easily it was almost a hobby?" but found that he couldn't do so partly because he thought it wouldn't go down well, and also due to his throat being uncomfortably dry. He reached out for his glass of water.

"Marlene tends to get on with the older guys," Tifa continued, ducking under the counter to get something and then straightening up again. "I mean, she sticks with Cloud a lot, but he's out most of the time."

Yazoo set his glass down, staring back at her. It might just have been his mind playing games with him, but he swore that for the smallest of moments, Tifa sounded quite hurt. Perhaps the content smile that was always on her face was merely a disguise that she put on around the children. Yazoo ought to know what facial disguises looked like from his own experience. He had hidden himself behind a cool exterior, and Kadaj, Yazoo could tell, was a nervous wreck beneath the smug, contemptuous expression he had grown to master.

"If you want, you can help me unwrap these glasses." Tifa gestured to a box of new drinking glasses in front of her. "I've had to restock because quite a few broke in the brawl last night."

Yazoo looked up in time to see Tifa's casual look, as though brawls were an everyday thing. Ultimately though, he failed to cover up his stunned expression, and Tifa handed him a glass that was in bubblewrap.

"Don't worry, it's nothing I can't handle." Her eyes displayed nonchalance. "If it gets too much, Cloud usually sorts them out."

"But you should see her fight!" Marlene had somehow got herself to stand by Yazoo's elbow without him actually noticing her. He took a few seconds to regain his composure, and watched as she jabbed the air with balled fists. "Tifa does martial arts. She's really tough."

Yazoo fingered the bubblewrap of the glass, choosing not to help with the unwrapping. He already knew this. Loz had told him after his encounter with her in the church how she had put up a good fight, how unexpected it was for him to actually face her.

Something suddenly clicked.

He knew he had seen Marlene somewhere! He stared at her as though he'd only just noticed she was there. Tifa stopped with her unwrapping, looking between the two.

"You…you were with Loz, weren't you?" Yazoo said hoarsely. He remembered how she had clung to the oldest brother whilst Kadaj carried out his speech. Yazoo, who at the time hadn't felt much whilst in the company of his brothers, was now overwhelmed by their absence. He had at last remembered who Marlene was. He was gazing at the deep brown eyes that reflected nothing but innocence. But it didn't make him feel any closer to Loz.

"Your brother?" Marlene questioned. "Yes, I was."

Yazoo turned away, finding nothing else to say. The coaster caught his attention once more, and propping his head up with a hand, he allowed for his hair to conceal his disappointed face. Behind him, he could just about make out Vincent's deep voice struggling to be heard over Yuffie's ecstatic nattering, as well as several children calling to each other.

Marlene hadn't moved from next to him, choosing to remain there and eat her lunch standing up. It was almost as though she was waiting for another conversation to start up, and Yazoo thought that she ought to know by now that the clone tended to refrain from starting conversations. Yazoo lifted his head slightly so that he could see her. She stood amiably, her upper back leaning against the counter as she ate a snack Yazoo didn't recognise.

"They're yoghurt covered raisins." Tifa noticed where Yazoo was looking, and Marlene jiggled the packet slightly towards him. She was offering him a weird snack. Yazoo was feeling more awkward by the minute, and this feeling intensified by ten times as Marlene took his hand and tipped a generous amount of raisins into it. She then took the unwrapped glass Tifa had given to him and unpacked it herself, handing it back to the older woman.

Yazoo shifted his gaze away from Marlene and instead, looked at the raisins in his hand. They were already getting sticky in his palm. He made sure both Tifa and Marlene weren't looking before taking one in his fingers and putting it gingerly into his mouth. He chewed, wrinkled his nose and swallowed.

"Whaddaya think?"

Yazoo jumped, and in the process, nearly dropped the rest of the raisins. Yuffie grinned over at him, dragging Vincent by the arm. Yazoo noted that Vincent seemed determined in meeting no one's gaze.

"They're not bad, are they?" Yuffie winked at him. "Having them coated with sugary yoghurty stuff defeats the prospect of them being healthy – they're raisins after all – but they're great, right?"

Yazoo was struggling to keep up with what she was saying, and unsurprisingly, found himself without words. Before, he rarely spoke because he didn't need to. And now, he was going to have to learn how to be social fast.

"You can have some more if you want," Marlene said. She reached for Yazoo's open palm, but before she could tip more into his hand, Vincent came to Yazoo's rescue and placed his good hand on Marlene's shoulder.

"Let him finish the others first. Save the rest for someone else."

"Ooh, I think Vinnie's trying to hint that he wants some." Yuffie crossed her arms smugly. Yazoo watched as Tifa laughed in Vincent's direction, as the red caped man muttered something inaudible. Marlene was clinging to him, waving the snack whilst Yuffie perched on a barstool with a triumphant air (which, Yazoo noted, she seemed to have all the time), one leg crossed over the other.

He felt the familiar feeling of being an intruder on this happy household, and it deepened as the door to 7th Heaven swung open to bring in a chilly wind and, in Yazoo's unwavering opinion, impending doom.

Azure eyes studied the bar, taking no notice of the clone sat at the counter with Tifa leaning on it opposite him. Then, Cloud Strife took several steps into the room, meeting Tifa's gaze.

"Any luck?" she said, much like how she had done before. The children sat at the other table were blissfully absorbed in their own conversation, but save for that, everyone else had fallen silent, including Yuffie.

It was either Yazoo's own interpretation, or Cloud really did look uncomfortable for a moment, as though torn between two things and having a bit of a problem in making a decision, for his brow crinkled, and his weight shifted from foot to foot.

Finally, he looked up at Yazoo. A mixture of anger, apology and discomfort was displayed in those blue eyes of his. Yazoo found himself staring back with the same emotions. He was seeing kindness that Cloud had had all along - had he been imagining their hate for each other? Was it just him who had been hating his brother, Cloud, and led to believe there was a non existant friction between them?

An odd connection erupted between them, and a small smile lit up Cloud's face as he said, "Found him."

* * *

**A/N: **There you go, take your guess in who Cloud found. I'm sorry for the late update by the way – I have really stressy teachers at the moment because we have exams coming up, and obviously, results affect how much their bonus is :) 

Anyways, here comes the usual reminder for you to review – seriously, it doesn't hurt :)


	5. Breath

**A/N:** Gah, another late update. So much to do and so little time… :( I'll stop complaining now – please read, and don't forget to review please!

**Disclaimer: **Characters are all copyright to Square-Enix. –sigh–

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 5: Breath**

Everything had happened in a blur. One minute, Yazoo was sat with the others, feeling stupid with raisins in his hand, and the next minute, he was out of the bar, hurrying down the grey road behind Tifa, Vincent and Yuffie, with an eager Marlene in his wake. Fortunately, Cloud had decided not to come with them, taking charge over 7th Heaven and the children.

Yazoo had no idea where they were going, or who 'he' was. He refrained from asking, since he was in no place to ask in the first place. Marlene was several steps in front of him, walking down the road in such a way that her feet didn't tread on the lines of the pavement. It was rather chilly, and Yazoo was thankful for the warm jumper he wore, his hands hiding under the sleeves like they usually did. Tifa had insisted on Marlene wearing her coat (despite the younger girl's protests), and amplifying Yazoo's already-present discomfort, asked for Cloud to lend the clone his shoes.

Walking in Cloud's shoes, as physically comfortable as they were, made Yazoo's trip highly difficult (being too big and belonging to Cloud of all people), but no one seemed to notice. Yuffie and Vincent, who were several feet in front of him, had walked side by side for the whole journey, of which, intentionally or not, their shoulders would occasionally bang against each other. Yazoo had a nagging suspicion that it was of Yuffie's intention, and he wondered if Vincent was Yuffie's boyfriend.

Yazoo, as expected of him, was more in his dream state, and hence, didn't notice until he stepped through a set of automatic doors that he needn't walk any further. They had arrived at a grim building that had the same lack of colour the whole of Edge had. It was as though the building wanted them to be depressed or something.

"I'll go sign us in," Tifa said quietly. Yazoo stopped fiddling with his sleeve. Despite there being at least ten others, sitting on worn sofas with either magazines or cigarettes in their hands, it was deathly quiet. Even the potted plant that sat on the coffee table was wilting, and the vending machine in the corner looked as if it hadn't been restocked or even touched for the last few years.

Tifa was talking to an elderly woman who was sat behind a desk. Photos and posters were half hanging off the whitewashed walls; Yazoo could just about make out that one of them was displaying a diagram of a man smoking, his lungs burnt black.

At his side, Marlene said in hushed tones, "I ought to take that poster to Cid."

Yuffie looked over her shoulder to wink at Marlene, and whilst not being able to understand Marlene's sentence, he was rather amused to see the poster, as if by rehearsal, peel off the wall and slump onto the floor. Marlene ran to pick it up, footsteps echoing on the stained concrete.

Tifa was handing out some sort of white badge, clipping it to her top. Vincent made very brief eye contact with Yazoo, and handed him one as well. Yazoo took it wordlessly, turning it over in his fingers and reading, "VISITOR". He stared at it a moment too long.

"Pin it, pin it," Yuffie said loudly. Almost immediately after she spoke, there was the sound of "Ssh!" as Tifa gave a pointed look to the girl. Even a businessman sat at the coffee table looked up from his magazine to treat Yuffie to a disapproving look. Yuffie rolled her eyes.

"A nurse will come down to take us to the ward, so we'll have to wait here for a bit." Tifa spoke once again in hushed tones, heading over to Yazoo and taking the visitor badge. She pinned it to his jumper whilst saying to him, "Go sit down, and make sure the seat's clean before you do."

Tifa moved away to give Marlene her badge, and nervously but at the same time, feeling as though it was he was the only person he could really comfortably sit next to, Yazoo took the seat by Vincent. Their mutual silence always seemed to be calming for some odd reason. Yuffie had bounded over to the radiator on the other side of Vincent, eagerly leaning against it. Then, she frowned and stepped away.

"Call that central heating! That's barely even on!"

"Ssh!" This time, more people looked up from their magazines. One woman – a particularly severe looking one, Yazoo noted – muttered something along the lines of '…young people these days…' before returning to her cigarette.

"…Are you allowed to smoke in hospitals?" Marlene whispered. Tifa stroked the girl's head, and replied with something Yazoo couldn't quite hear. Vincent shifted very slightly, and with eyes staring at the floor in front of his feet, he said softly, "…Yuffie."

"What?"

"…You're standing on my cloak."

Yuffie looked down at her feet, and with a small shrug, lifted a foot up a little.

"Thank you."

Yazoo moved his gaze to study the potted plant. It was a sad sight, much like everything else around him. He had felt a tension between Yuffie and Vincent that he hadn't noticed before, and assumptions about them being an item were scrapped. Vincent then stood up.

"You can sit down if you want Yuffie," he said lowly. Yazoo watched out the corner of his eye as Yuffie said, "Gawd, such a gentleman – I could do with a seat, my legs are dying here." She slumped down next to Yazoo, sighing loudly and flashing a grin.

"What you looking at that plant for? It's been dead for the past twenty years, probably. It was just as rotten as it is now, the last time I came here."

"…The last time?" Yazoo spoke up for the first time in a while, unable to restrain his curiosity. What would Yuffie be doing at a place like this?

"Yeah, I was here with Cloud, see, his Delivery Service y'know?" She waved a hand carelessly. "A particularly large delivery. Needed _my_ help. Couldn't do it by himself, see."

Yuffie crossed one leg over the other. "Cloud does all sorts of work in for all sorts of companies – delivering things safely and stuff. Earns good money for Tifa to be able to keep 7th Heaven and the kids. She was a bit worried you know, that she might get them taken away, after the whole incident with…"

She trailed off, and Yazoo had the unsettling feeling she was just about to mention Kadaj. Yuffie coughed lightly, and then grinned over at the vending machine.

"Hey, there's actually some food in there!" She leapt to her feet and hurried over to the machine with incredible speed, taking money out from her pocket sifting through it with her fingers. "Mmm…let's see…"

Yazoo was about to return to his looking at the dead plant, when Marlene joined Vincent by the radiator, holding up the poster of the effects of smoking. Vincent's cloak ruffled as he bent down to Marlene's level, looking at it with her. The word 'Cid' cropped up in their hushed conversation, and once again, with no understanding of it, Yazoo turned away and found, mildly surprising him, Tifa sat next to him with one foot resting on the seat so that her knee tucked under her chin.

"Cid's a friend of ours," she said quietly. "He smokes so much, you can smell him before you see him."

A very faint smile graced her face, and Yazoo recognised it as a wan, nostalgic one, with half the cheeriness she usually had. Yazoo considered for a few moments what complications Tifa had to face everyday – children to take care of, a bar to run and on top of it, him. There seemed to be something else though, and he didn't seem to be able to figure out. But now he understood, that smile was bound to fade once in a while. Several seconds of nothing passed.

"…I don't see why you let me stay." He broke the silence. Tifa gave him a brief look.

"You think I'd've left you there?" It was the first time Yazoo had conversed with her about the night he was found, lying there half conscious, prone to anything. He hadn't even thanked her, but he found that he couldn't just bring himself to say it. It didn't seem to fit in any conversation at all. Or perhaps, he had preferred to die.

"Damn! This vending machine just ate my money! You obviously don't know who I am, do you?"

"Ssh!" several strangers glared at Yuffie. Tifa shook her head, and returned to resting it on her knee.

"No…" she murmured. "I think I've seen enough people die. Enough deaths."

Yazoo knew how that felt. A heart wrenching pain inside of him that those who'd never experienced it could ever possibly imagine. He involuntarily wiped at his eyes self consciously, in case he had stupidly succumbed to the weakness of crying. Glad to find he hadn't, he waited for Tifa to carry on talking, but found she had no more to say. It was unnerving to see her this way; it didn't seem to suit her at all.

But it stayed like that the few minutes before a short woman with a round face walked into the grim room, her large frame threatening to pop out of a white uniform that was far too small for her. Tifa stood up to greet her, and Vincent had followed suit, hand linked with Marlene. The poster was rolled up, resting in the crook of her arm.

"Tifa Lockheart?" the woman said. Yuffie had given up her mission of trying to get her money back, and stood at Yazoo's side. She was grinning again.

"This'll make you smile, this'll."

Just as Yazoo was about to ask what, he realised he didn't have the time to as the group followed the woman up a set of stairs. They walked up two flights; Yazoo stuck with Tifa, begging her with his eyes to tell him what was going on.

"Not long now," was all she said. They headed down a wide corridor, with a light floor and white tiles on the wall. One of the ceiling lights was flickering, ready to go out any minute. A tall man brushed past them quickly, a long white coat swirling around his knees. A nurse rushed past, scanning a clipboard and jotting something down. All the doors looked exactly the same, creamy in colour, a little square window at the height of someone's head.

Yazoo didn't like the look of this place at all.

He shook his head. Then, faintly, he managed "…No…I don't like this place…"

A machine was bleeping. Another nurse hurried past with a tray of glittering instruments, pushing open a door with her back and letting it swing shut behind her.

"…I want to go back…I don't like this place…"

"Here." Tifa stopped him at a door. The woman in the white uniform pulled out a clipboard from a slot on the wall.

"Relatives or friends?" She smiled. It was a false smile. Yazoo could feel his temper rising at the sight of that woman, and he almost reached for Velvet Nightmare before reminding himself he didn't have it anymore.

"Relative," Tifa answered. She gestured to Yazoo. "This is his brother."

Yazoo did a double-take, and ran a tongue over his lips. He had misheard. He wasn't anyone's brother anymore. Cloud didn't count as one, not after what he did to Kadaj, and Kadaj himself…and Loz…he had no brothers, unless…

The woman with the false smile pushed open the door, holding it open.

Yazoo had no brothers. Not unless…could it be…? Yuffie had said something about him smiling…and over anything, he'd smile if he were ever to see…

"Go inside," said Marlene. Yazoo didn't. This could be a trick, even from innocent Marlene: he could enter that room and never come out again. Like before, trapped with only the screams of Kadaj and the incessant tapping of pens on clipboards.

His feet had moved without him registering it. He was at the door, presented with a clear view of a white room, where in the corner, there was a person occupying the bed. Some sort of monitor was bleeping regularly. Yazoo studied it for a moment, and then allowed for his gaze to rest on the stranger's face.

And found that he was no stranger.

It was unmistakable – the coiled hair, snoozing expression and big forehead. Yazoo swore that the floor had dropped a few feet; his stomach was doing flips.

"Loz!"

He stumbled into the room, grabbing onto a nearly trolley. The sounds of the metallic instruments dropping echoing loudly. In seconds, he was at his brother's side. Yazoo felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders, no longer afraid or lonely. He was enraged. How dare his oaf of a brother get him so worried!

"Loz! Loz, you _stupid _bastard! What are you playing at? Bastard!" he yelled as loud as he could, fuming. "You damn bastard, you musclehead, you damn oaf…"

Yazoo sank to his knees, onto the cold floor and dropping his head to rest against the bed in defeat. Loz's eyes were still closed.

"…Why can't he hear me?"

Vincent answered for him, entering the room (passing the nurse, who was looking very shocked at Yazoo's outburst) and standing several feet away.

"…The doctor's say he's resting. Taking time out."

Yazoo gripped the sheets covering Loz, forcing himself to regain his composure. He didn't need to lose it, Loz was here…everything would be okay now. He wiped at his eyes, brushing away the small tears; he watched Loz's chest rise and fall steadily under the sheets, one hand draped over himself whilst the machine bleeped away. Yazoo took his brother's hand, and out the corner of his eye, he saw Vincent edge closer. To his dismay, he realised he was doing a miserable job in stopping himself crying, in full view of Vincent's deep gaze. He gripped Loz's hand tighter, and forced himself to say it.

"…T-thank you."

"You should say that to Cloud," Vincent murmured. His gaze moved to look over at Loz, and then back to Yazoo. "Cloud searched the rubble whilst checking at local hospitals. It turned out that your brother here was picked up, but you weren't."

Yazoo remained silent, and Vincent appeared to take it as a cue to continue.

"…He told me that he struggled to look at you, not because of hate, but much like you, he has been severely affected by the loss of Kadaj."

Yazoo looked up at the wine coloured eyes. "…What do you mean?"

He was denied an answer, as Vincent gave him a look that was more grave than usual.

"Yazoo, allow me to say this." Vincent lowered his head a little. "…I would like to tell you…not to raise your hopes for Kadaj."

Yazoo nodded again, and found his voice. "…I know…the thing about Kadaj was…h-he…"

Vincent took two light steps to the closed door, as though he knew that Yazoo couldn't say anymore. He paused, and turned round.

"Take your time. We can wait."

Yazoo watched him leave. With the door firmly shut and the chatter outside gone, Loz's breathing was clear. Regular, soft and soothing.

* * *

**A/N: **Well done to those of you who guessed Loz:D I think it was pretty clear cut in the movie that Kadaj stood no chance of coming back, but as for Yazoo and Loz, not so clear cut.

Just a quick note – Yazoo freaks out at the sight of clipboards and hospital stuff because they remind him of labs (Ame ni Matte fic). I like to think the SHM were Hojo's experiments rather than popping out of nowhere :)

Next chapter, I'm going to have a stab at a conversation between Cloud and Yazoo, so stay tuned, and please please review! It doesn't hurt!


	6. Flight

**A/N:** This is the worst update date ever…I'm sorry, people :( Anyways, Happy Easter! This chapter (as I mentioned in Ch.5) has a bit of Cloud, and the guys are actually going to do something interesting. Thank you to the people who've reviewed so far!

**Disclaimer: **Characters are all copyright to Square-Enix. –sigh–

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 6: Flight**

"_I would like to tell you…not to raise your hopes for Kadaj."_

Due to his head aching with a pain that didn't seem to want to go away, and his confused emotions, Yazoo had gone to bed as early as possible. This was to Marlene's great disappointment, who had been sincerely hoping that, on seeing Loz, Yazoo would cheer up and play with her.

It was quite the contrary. The revelation of Loz surviving the explosion accentuated the absence of Kadaj, and hence, roused a feeling of being incomplete. Yazoo was, of course, overjoyed to be reunited with his lifelong companion Loz, but at the same time, sitting somewhere in his stomach, was that unpleasant feeling of knowing he was still lost.

Yazoo was on his side in Cloud's bed, facing the room. Since it was still the early evening, the bare room was not quite shrouded in darkness, but given a faint blue hue from what light managed to seep in through a small window. He could just about hear some people talking downstairs. Yuffie was particularly loud. Yazoo could make out by the enthusiasm in her voice, as well as that of some children, that the conversation was lively, talking over something was was exciting.

He was about to roll over onto his other side when the room was abruptly engulfed in the warm orange light outside. The door creaked; there were several audible footsteps.

"Don't mind me."

Yazoo watched as Cloud dropped his bag at the end of the bed. The blonde rummaged through a set of drawers; several items were taken out and tossed onto a waiting table. Yazoo licked his lips, fidgeted with his fingers. If it wasn't for Cloud, Kadaj would still be alive. And, as fate had it, Yazoo would never have found out that Loz was recovering in a hospital.

Cloud zipped up a second bag, sitting on his heels with his head bent. To be minding his business like that, packing his bag with that irksome nonchalance of his, Yazoo couldn't see the effect Kadaj's death had on him, as Vincent had said. Yazoo turned away. Perhaps Vincent had only said that to put Cloud in a good light.

Cloud straightened up; Yazoo could tell by the awkward posture that he was about to be addressed.

"Listen." Cloud folded his arms. The cocky, imperious attitude was back, as well as that look reserved just for him. Yazoo glowered at him, but it went amiss in the darkness of the bed he sat in. "Tomorrow, we're going to the Gold Saucer. It was not my idea."

There was a significant pause; in Yazoo's honest opinion, Cloud sounded rather unhappy. He willed himself to sit up, despite the protests of his weak arms and tired eyes.

"…Marlene wants to celebrate her birthday. She insists that you come."

Yazoo could tell quite easily – even when he was half asleep and he could barely see – how Cloud felt about _that_. He replied with a solemn, "Oh." He wasn't too sure what to make of being invited to a little girl's birthday party, and what was the Gold Saucer anyway?

Cloud paused at the door. He looked more than eager to leave the room. His bag hung limply at his side from one hand. "…The doctors say three more days will completely heal Loz."

Yazoo had wondered when the topic of Loz would crop up. And since Cloud had brought it up, it was sensible to assume that the blonde was expecting some thanks. It wasn't as though Yazoo was ungrateful. He was overwhelming with indebtedness to the courageous man who had reunited him with his brother. But whenever he thought twice about this debt and the man in question, he would feel inexplicably sick to the stomach.

Cloud was still at the door, motionless.

"Going to the Gold Saucer might take your mind off things – worrying, for instance. Loz will be better by the time you come back."

It was a warm, reassuring comment, and hardly characteristic to that of Cloud. But before Yazoo knew it, a powerful rush of confidence surged within him, and he burst out a near-incoherent, "Thank you…thank you for finding Loz."

Yazoo wetted his lips – a habit he had when nervous – and sat up straighter. He wasn't done yet – he had something important to say…

"K-Kadaj, he…"

Cloud had turned round. Awkwardness was etched clearly on his face, and his eyes were darting. Every now and then they'd catch the light and reflect it.

"If you hadn't done it," Yazoo muttered more to his knees, "he probably would have done it himself."

Yes, that was the harsh reality. Kadaj was too impulsive for his own good and he would've undoubtedly finished himself off if Cloud hadn't got there first.

"It doesn't mean I forgive you," Yazoo added defensively. Cloud turned the door handle.

"…That feeling's mutual."

* * *

Yazoo had never encountered such chaos. Neither, apparently, had Vincent, who had made his exit out of 7th Heaven discreetly to avoid the commotion that was eight children getting ready to go to the Gold Saucer. Tifa was struggling to work out which coat went on which person, and amidst the confusion, she had given Marlene's coat to Yazoo. Cloud was tossing shoes aside as he tried to find his left boot, and Yuffie was sneakily searching through some coats that definitely weren't hers.

Marlene's coat flew out of Yazoo's hand as Denzel rushed past. Another child (Yazoo had the inkling that he was called Owen) had his coat on inside out, and Tifa stumbled after him. By the looks of it, she had given up. She sighed, pushing back her fringe.

"As soon as the Gold Saucer gets mentioned, they go wild." She started to do up the buttons to her coat. "But I couldn't refuse Marlene her treat, really. Barret's going to meet us there, and Cid's bringing _Sierra_ over. And of course, _Sierra _serves to add more excitement doesn't it."

Because that made perfect sense. Who was Barret? And Sierra? Yazoo must have had a stupid face on or something, as Tifa laughed lightly.

"_Sierra_'s an airship. That's how we'll be travelling. It's luxury travel to be honest." A dreamy look crossed her face. "You can see the ocean, the mountains…"

It was a good half hour before Yazoo got his first glimpse of _Sierra_, hovering over Edge with a grand air. More unfortunately though, on getting onto the deck, he was also greeted by the Captain.

"The hell! What the hell is a &#!# like him doing on my airship!"

Cid Highwind was far from overjoyed in having Yazoo coming along for the ride. Yazoo had to admit, he felt exactly the same way. He was moved away from Cid as Yuffie dragged him by the elbow, and stumbling backwards, he saw that Tifa was talking to Cid, gesturing her hands apologetically.

"Cid! Stop being a loser! Tifa knows what she's doing!" Yuffie shouted. "You're taking everything too damn seriously like Cloud!"

"Well I'll be damned!" came the heated response. "I thought I'd never see the day when &$#!Cloud showed more sense than you, Tifa!"

Yazoo was led by Yuffie to the railing, out of the way. From here, he could see the sad grey buildings that made up Edge. Not too far in the distance, there was an unfinished highway. Dark clouds up ahead promised a rainstorm, and a chilly wind reached him, howling as it swept across the deck and ruffled the scarves of the children.

Yuffie had gambolled over to Vincent, and Yazoo kept his eyes looking forward, but in such a way that he could see the two out of the corner of his eye. Yuffie reached out a hand to touch Vincent's elbow as she said something. Yazoo fixed his gaze firmly on a dull set of flats.

"Yuffie. Please don't."

"…Yeah, I know." Her reply was strangely low, and Yazoo struggled to hear what she was saying. "Everything has germs in your opinion."

After much persuasion, Cid had left for the bridge. A few minutes passed, and then the airship began to move upwards. Vincent stood several feet away, still and silent as ever, though the wind seemed to be giving his cloak and hair a bit of trouble. Marlene and a girl named Erica were admiring the view from the deck, talking to each other animatedly.

_Sierra_ rose higher and higher, soaring across the sky at a speed that made the ground below rush past, and Midgar vanished as the airship sailed over blurred green forests. Yuffie had suddenly disappeared from the deck without a word, which Yazoo thought was very odd.

"The Gold Saucer is a theme park."

Vincent spoke from next to him. His eyes were looking elsewhere, but Yazoo was pretty sure Vincent was talking to him.

"…Ideal for children," he replied vaguely. Vincent moved his head a little.

"…Yes, it is."

Yazoo brought the sleeves to his jumper down a bit more, hiding his hands in them. He swore that for a moment, his feet had left the deck. He took hold of his stomach, swallowing. His mouth tasted rather weird.

"Cid used to have an airship called _Highwind_," said Vincent. He pushed his bandana up as it sagged a fraction.

"Oh," Yazoo answered. He felt as though he was participating in the most boring conversation ever. He looked behind him at the blurred view below. They were flying over the ocean; the patterns of the white waves made his head spin. Deciding he felt better when he wasn't looking down, Yazoo leaned against the railing, similar to that of Vincent's posture. To his dismay, Cloud was on the deck, accompanied by Tifa, Marlene and Erica. The buster sword on his back glinted in the sunlight somewhat threateningly, and Yazoo wished to himself that he had his Velvet Nightmare back.

He seemed to be robbed of everything, including his dignity. Where only a short while ago, he was on a mission to find his Mother, now he was on an airship being taken to a theme park with a bunch of kids. It was unbelievable, and he wondered how someone like Vincent could be whisked along on the trip.

Tifa was laughing, brushing her hair aside. Yazoo watched absently. Cloud was leaning over the railing slightly, marvelling at the passing scenery as Tifa followed.

"I think Cloud's rather long sighted." Vincent had spoken up randomly again. Yazoo repeated the sentence in his head, and found that it still didn't make sense.

"What do you mean, long sighted?" Yazoo ignored the peculiar sensation in his stomach.

"His perspective in general looks at things far away." Vincent shrugged. "He doesn't really appreciate, or even notice, that of which is right in front of him."

Yazoo blinked. Why was everything around him swaying? Was the ship moving that much? He turned back to Vincent, reverting his attention back to the conversation.

"When you say that Cloud doesn't appreciate what's in front of him," he said, "surely that could be applied to you too."

It was the first time Yazoo had ever seen Vincent so flustered. Perhaps he had gone too far. The deep red eyes had widened, the folded arms were slack, and that air of foreboding around him seemed to have gone.

"W-what?"

Yazoo was about to repeat what he had said, and quite confidently at that. He believed he had a good point, but something had caught in his throat. The deck was spinning…his stomach was being clenched by an invisible hand…his gaze was out of focus…

"Hey! Yazoo, are you okay?"

Tifa was at his side, grabbing him by the elbow. He staggered forwards. His balance was gone.

"…I feel a bit…sick…"

To his surprise, Tifa was laughing, aiding him across the deck whilst a surly Cloud held the door open for the two.

"You know Yazoo, I think you have motion sickness!"

* * *

**A/N:** There we go, off to the Gold Saucer. What do you think? Let me know in a review! Please? 


	7. Arrival

**A/N:** Oh, it's one of these late updates again. You can blame my psychology coursework for that –shakes fist–. No worries though, all this workload will be gone by Friday, and I'll be able to update my other fic!

A few notes to this chapter: it's got my first attempt at a YazooxTifa relationship, yeah at long last, huh? Yuffie and Vincent come in later chapters, I decided to only give them a small part this time or else the chapter'd be too long.

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix.–sigh–

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 7: Arrival**

Yazoo always liked to pay attention to the detail in his surroundings. Such was his personality when he travelled with two brothers that spewed nonsense at each other relentlessly. He had an appreciation for his environment, one could say. Whether it was the dry stretches of road or the damp woods he trekked through, Yazoo could easily lose himself in his daydreams.

Strangely though, he had lost his collected self. Aboard _Sierra_ for a grand total of six hours and then arriving at a station to catch a monorail, the 'motion sickness' Tifa had said he had was kicking in hard. Yazoo could barely look up, trying his best to walk in a straight line but only serving to stagger more. Tifa had gripped him firmly by the arm, keeping him steady as he stood on the monorail, knees ready to give way.

It was on this journey that Yazoo could finally let his eyes adjust, praying for the world to stop spinning. With one hand taking hold of a pole in the carriage, Yazoo shifted his weight so that he was leaning somewhat against it. This enabled him to look around the monorail, and ultimately, at the terrible situation he was in. Stuck in an unstable carriage with bickering children and a crew of strangers, one of which happened to be the murderer of his brother.

Vincent was stood by the doors of the monorail, not quite resting his shoulder against it. Yuffie was at the far end, head bowed down and making rather odd noises. The captain named Cid, who had quite honestly expressed his opinion of Yazoo, was in a furtive conversation with Cloud, probably discussing what Yazoo was apparently conspiring in his head.

The carriage made a sudden jolt, shuddering to a halt. People began to leave their seats, making for the opening doors. Yazoo felt a hand on his arm.

"We're here, you know."

Yazoo looked down at the smiling face of Marlene. He forced his eyes to focus on those shining brown eyes.

"It's my birthday tomorrow, Yazoo! This is my birthday treat – you will enjoy it, won't you?"

It must have been the imploring eyes, or the fact that Marlene's innocent but leading question was reminding him of Kadaj, but Yazoo didn't find it hard to let a smile grow on his face. Marlene had a finger tapping against her chin thoughtfully.

"Tifa said you were ill because you were flying." She smiled apologetically. "That must be awful…Yuffie has it too, and she always moans about it."

"Oh, is he travel sick?" The child named Owen had randomly decided to join the conversation as Yazoo and Marlene got off the monorail. "I thought he was drunk. That's what Erica told me."

Yazoo resisted the urge to biff Owen, and anxiously stood next to Tifa as the group gathered. Somewhere in the background, an overly joyous song was playing, and lights of all sorts of colours were shining too brightly. In his confusion and still without a sense of balance, Yazoo stumbled a little, brushing his shoulder against Tifa's. She quickly caught him. Yazoo noted her quick reflexes; they could match that of Loz.

"Still a bit shaky?" she asked him. Yazoo stared in front of him, pondering. Those annoying lights were spinning round and round. In fact, everything looked to be swirling. Then, he replied with a sullen, "…Cloud seems to have three heads."

Tifa gave him a reassuring smile, whilst Cloud (who had overheard) seemed a little offended. Marlene suddenly dashed past, flashing a wide grin. "Come and meet my dad, Yazoo!"

As it were, Barret Wallace was not happy to see Yazoo, and in a similar way to Cid, opted to unleash his anger on Tifa instead.

"Tifa! I'm ashamed of ya! Keeping that...that…I dunno, clone thing, in yer bar? With Marlene! What's he doin' here anyway? He's meant ter be dead! What about the others? They alive as well?"

"Barret, stop making a scene, he's not worth your &£ time." Cid spoke dryly from the corner of his mouth, lighting a cigarette.

"Don't worry, Papa, Yazoo's been invited to the party too!"

"He's been _what_?" Barret stared incredulously at Marlene, who appeared to be the only one finding the whole situation amusing. Denzel was anxiously scuffing the end of one of his trainers into the floor, looking as though he was caught up in a decision. For the briefest of moments, watching both Marlene and Denzel, Yazoo wished he was a child again so that he could run and hide in a dignified way.

Barret proceeded to make his way towards him, but Marlene was skipping alongside him. Her innocent gestures had a small effect on Barret, who stopped in his tracks to talk to his daughter, deciding to only give Yazoo a menacing glare.

"Welcome to the Gold Saucer!"

A chirrupy voice by Yazoo's ear made him jump. He looked behind him to find the voice's owner. To his surprise, waddling past was a large yellow bird of some sort with abnormally huge eyes. It flapped its wings in a presumably friendly manner, head bobbing up and down. Yazoo was bemused at the sight of this, and even more so when he studied the legs of the yellow bird to see some denim poking out from between the clawed feet and orange legs.

"Is…is there a person in there?" He felt stupid in asking, but for an unknown reason, this feeling was minimal when he spoke to Tifa.

"That chocobo?" Tifa said, looking away from Barret (who was being explained of the whole situation by Vincent). "Yeah, there's a person in there. Someone has to do it, I suppose." She rocked on her heels patiently, smiling suddenly. "I'm glad I left Barret and Cloud in charge of this."

Yazoo followed her gaze to where the said men were, hopelessly trying to round up the children whilst avoiding being pestered by the chocobo mascot. Vincent was having enough trouble dealing with an air vent behind him, which was ruffling his hair and obstructing his view. Yuffie looked very pale, clutching her stomach and groaning to herself. And Cid was getting reprimanded by a Gold Saucer attendant for smoking in an environment that prohibited it.

"Yo, Tifa!" Barret shouted across to her. "You said eight kids! There's gotta be more than that! Look at 'em! There's like, twelve!"

"There are eight," Tifa replied. She muttered a, "Back in a minute" to Yazoo before heading over to help Barret and Cloud (who was annoyed because a random boy was pointing to his hair). Yazoo ran a tongue over his lips, and pulled his sleeves down. His habit of hiding his hands had stretched his jumper to such an extent, it sagged at the neck and often, hung to one side. Tifa indeed, came back in less than a minute, beckoning for him to follow her.

"Right, the kids go either in Barret's group or Cloud's group. I've asked for Vincent and Cid to take care of Yuffie since she's still a bit ill, so that leaves us."

Yazoo stared determinedly at his sleeves.

"I'm going to check in at the Ghost Hotel," said Tifa, "you're more than welcome to tag along, or if you want, you can look around at the games and rides – there's plenty to do."

Yazoo looked up, seeing the chocobo mascot wave a winged arm at him happily. Yazoo was more disturbed now that he knew it was a person in that suit. The denim seemed more obvious than ever.

"…I'll tag along, please," he muttered. He couldn't believe he was being intimidated by a chocobo mascot, but there was a time and place for everything. Tifa led him through the entrance, showing to the attendant (who had scolded Cid) a pass of some sort before gesturing to a doorway that led to the Ghost Hotel.

As Yazoo found, the Ghost Hotel had an atmosphere that suited its name. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked in, greeted by a blood red lobby with solemn-looking guests, eerie music drifting down the stairs that enveloped Yazoo with concerned thoughts, as though an undesirable someone was stood behind him (in Yazoo's case, Cloud).

Tifa seemed oblivious to the sinister atmosphere and had walked over to the counter where a droopy nosed man unenthusiastically looked up from his work. Yazoo waited wordlessly, studying a nearby chess table, trying to remember how that game went. He then accepted the idea of resting his tired legs, settling down in a frayed, worn armchair. The pleasure of being able to relax at last ran through his body, and Yazoo nearly could have dropped off to sleep, if it wasn't for the sickening feeling caught in his throat and the distinctive smell of the armchair, which reeked of ashes and sweat.

Tifa shook his shoulder gently after a few minutes of blissful rest, and Yazoo started, blinking to see her looking at him.

"I wasn't sure which room to stick you in…I mean, Cloud, Barret and Cid are out of the question, so I decided to put you with Vincent…you two appear to get on well."

Tifa stood uneasily for a moment, almost as though she was sorry about the room arrangements. Yazoo imagined that she too was wondering if having a lame conversation about some old airship counted as 'getting on well'. He admitted to himself though, that sharing a room with the antisocial, virtually-inaudible Vincent Valentine was a lot more tolerable than sharing with Cloud.

After some moments of no conversation, Tifa picked up a black chess piece and examined it. She put it back carefully, Yazoo's gaze following it.

"…My dad loved chess, you know. I never quite got the game – it's all too strategic for me."

"Loz loves the game." Yazoo spoke unthinkingly. It oddly seemed okay for him to talk and actually converse. Perhaps this was the result of being forced into a situation where Kadaj's big mouth wasn't there to do the talking for him. "Kadaj hated losing, so Loz always made himself lose."

Tifa laughed lightly. "Understandable. It's one of those games when you plan so many moves, and then your opponent dashes them all in one go."

"…I guess," Yazoo replied. He watched as the shiny surfaces of the pieces reflected off the fire-lit chandelier in the lobby. Tifa took a seat opposite him, still staring at the chessboard, lose in thought. Again, the familiar silence followed, and Yazoo felt himself wanting to start a conversation to get rid of it. He coughed lightly.

"…Did you say there were games here?"

Tifa looked momentarily confused, before jumping to her feet eagerly. "Yeah, there are loads of games, over in Wonder Square."

"What kind of games?" Yazoo was rather pleased he had started a successful conversation. He left the Ghost Hotel with her (finding at last, he was almost able to walk in a straight line), listening as she began to name the games, ticking them off with her fingers. They passed through the doorway to Wonder Square, where the recognizable theme song rang through the excitable air merrily, as though when at the Gold Saucer, nothing really seemed to matter.

* * *

**A/N:** There we go, some YazooTifa goodness. Was it okay? I think they'd probably start off as friends. And don't ask about the chocobo mascot thing. That was totally random. More Vincent and Yuffie in the next chapter, hopefully. Please stay tuned, and don't forget! Review! 


	8. Anxiety

**A/N:** More YazooxTifa, and my last chapter's comment might have struck some confusion –hits head-. This fic is primarily Yazoo and Tifa, not a Yuffentine, but I use Vincent and Yuffie to get some ideas and things across :) They're only important in that sense, particularly later on. Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter!

Anyways, onto chapter 8! I had fun writing this chapter, but then again, I love writing Yazoo, so no surprise. I hope you enjoy it reading it as much as I did writing it. Oh yeah, I also tried listening to the Gold Saucer music as inspiration for this chapter, but I had to turn it off after a few rounds because it was driving me crazy.

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 8: Anxiety**

The Gold Saucer had successfully taken hold of all of Yazoo's attention. That in itself was remarkable. Not even his worries about his poor brother Loz crossed his mind as he concentrated. It was as Cloud had said before leaving 7th Heaven: the Gold Saucer easily took his mind off things. For now, one eye firmly shut with the other wide open as though he were firing his gun, he grabbed the left joystick and pushed it forwards.

"Too far." Yazoo let his hands drop to his sides in defeat, watching as a claw swung down, the fingers stroking a plushie before snatching nothing but air. It moved across to drop the non-existent prize. Above the clone's head, the words 'Wonder Catcher' flashed in blinking letters.

Yazoo was no doubt furious with himself for wasting his time on such a stupid thing. But he'd worry about his dignity later. The Cactuer plushie was still there, stuck in a glass box, positioned in a tantalising way so that with enough practice, it could be picked up. And Yazoo wasn't someone to back out of a fight.

"So close, you were so close that time!" Tifa was at his side, her nose nearly touching the glass. Once again, the 100 gil was passed to him, and Yazoo fed the coins through the slot. The machine lit up, and the claw sprung to life another time. He pushed the joystick to move the claw to the right; Tifa was watching with baited breath. Yazoo eyed the Cactuer, taking note of good reference points. It was then that he became even more enraged with himself. The training he had done was so that he could use Velvet Nightmare, not control claws in glass boxes, picking up cactus dolls of all things. He let go of the joystick abruptly, and once again, the claw swiped at nothing. It buzzed along teasingly, empty handed.

It was plainly obvious. The game was a whole scam whereby the Gold Saucer ate up their customers' money by placing that plushie in an apparently reachable way. It could've been chained to the floor of the machine for all Yazoo knew. His brain said, "it's a scam, give up, Yazoo." His mouth said, "One more go."

He slotted in more gil. The claw swung slightly. Yazoo treated the Cactuer to a fierce look, and found his reference points again: the wonky wing of the stuffed Mog and the lid of a potion. He moved the claw to the right and then up. He let go of the joystick, one hand creeping up to touch the glass as he leaned forwards. The claw made a grab, and there, caught in the grip was the Cactuer. For some odd reason, Yazoo counted this as a victory. The feeling he had was very close to that he'd feel after winning a battle. He snatched up the Cactuer as it tumbled out the machine. And then stared at it.

"What will you do with it?" Tifa asked.

Yazoo blinked. He hadn't thought about that. Perhaps he could give it to Marlene, or better still, dispose of it before too many people saw him holding it. He then remembered that there were several dolls back at 7th Heaven – surely Tifa wouldn't mind having this blasted Cactuer doll as well.

To his surprise, Tifa was overjoyed. "Really? Can I have it?" she said Yazoo passed it to her. Oddly, she seemed to have already forgotten that it was her money Yazoo had used. She slotted the Cactuer in her bag affectionately and said, "Have you ever been to Cactuer Island? It's way out in the sea, not many people know of it…"

Yazoo killed the conversation with an abrupt, "No."

They played basketball next. It could have been Yazoo's dizziness or the annoyingly repetitive music in the background, but Yazoo only achieved four consecutive shots, whilst Tifa hit on nine. Nevertheless, once winning their share of GP, Tifa asked him if he was having fun (to which Yazoo replied shamefully, "…Yes.") and then went up on the next floor.

"How about some snowboarding?" She pointed to a machine that held a colourful snowboard. A teenager was riding on it with flailing arms, eyes fixed on a screen determinedly. Yazoo nearly snorted at the thought of himself on that snowboard, doing the same thing.

"No thank you," he replied. Tifa gave him an understanding smile, and moved away from the snowboard game to a much smaller machine. It glowed a faint purple, and Yazoo was rather appalled to see a person from the shoulders up stuck behind the glass. Granted, it wasn't real, but who thought up of attractions like that?

"It's a Fortune Teller," Tifa explained, slotting in more of her money. "I always go here when we go to the Gold Saucer. It's not accurate or personal at all, but it's nice to read something reassuring, if that makes sense."

Yazoo nodded. Tifa's fingers turned a silver handle round, and there was the sound of something clattering down the machine into the tray.

"There you go, your fortune."

She leaned closer as Yazoo took the plastic ball, twisting it open and pulling out a folded sheet of paper. Yazoo saw no point in having his fortune read, but his hands unwrapped the paper automatically. The words hit Yazoo like a kick in the head. He almost felt he had motion sickness all over again.

_Never give up._

Whether it was life without Kadaj, making amends with Cloud or even catching that Cactuer, it all came down to one thing: never to give up. If he gave up now, then everything would be meaningless. They couldn't wait for Kadaj's instructions anymore; they were never going to come.

Yazoo almost forgot that Tifa was there, reminded when several strands of her dark hair brushed against his. He quickly regained his aloof composure so that the hot prickling tears at the corner of his eyes were hidden. He couldn't succumb to his weakness now…Loz and Kadaj would laugh at him…if they were given the opportunity…

He felt a wistful smile crawl onto his face. How he longed for his brother Loz, even if it was the teasing and stupid questions. Loz was fighting well in hospital, Yazoo couldn't possibly see over emotional Loz giving up anytime soon. Someone had to look after Loz, and if that someone gave up…

It was like how Kadaj had said one time, when the three had ran out of petrol for their motorbikes. Something about Loz giving up, and how it would not only disappoint Loz. Yazoo couldn't quite remember the words, but he could recall fresh in his mind, as though Kadaj was right next to him, the determined, unbreakable look on the youngest's face.

Yazoo slipped the fortune into his pocket, coughing lightly as a way to tell Tifa he had finished staring at it, daydreaming. She took him back to the main entrance, saying something along the lines of 'racing', but as ever, Yazoo had no idea what was going on.

As they came out of Wonder Square, a rather peculiar sight met his eyes. Though Yuffie – as much as Yazoo knew of her – was not indecisive, but there she was, stood awkwardly alongside Vincent, eyes flicking from entrance to entrance, at a loss for how to pass the time. When those stormy grey eyes hit Yazoo, they only moved faster, darting nervously before she said in a falsely cheery voice, "Hey, how's you two doing? Just come out of Wonder Square?"

"That's right," Tifa smiled. She looked between Yuffie and Vincent. "How about you?"

"Ugh, the Battle Square," Yuffie groaned in response. "Cloud was battling it out as usual."

Vincent gave her an inscrutable look, his head moving very slightly but otherwise, barely noticeable. He addressed Yazoo with a faint nod, saying, "You'd be sure to enjoy yourself at the Battle Square."

"Yeah," Yuffie piped up, bobbing on her heels and knocking shoulders with Vincent, "one-on-one fighting, test your skills and stuff!"

"I'm not for one-on-one fights," Yazoo said, pulling on his sleeves. "Loz and I…"

"Oh yeah, course…" Yuffie muttered. "I guess you'll have to forget the Battle Square then. Say, how about Chocobo Racing? Now _that's_ fun. That guy, Joe, takes it waaay too seriously. You know, just once, I'd like to deflate that head of his, smash him in…and that damn Teioh, one heck of an arrogant chocobo…"

She leapt forwards, dealing blows to the air with fast fists. Vincent jumped a little, so slight, since the next moment, he was motionless again.

"Where are you two off to then?" Tifa interrupted Yuffie's rants about Joe and Teioh. Yazoo noticed the sheepish look Yuffie had before it was quickly covered by a nonchalant smile.

"Oh…I dunno, uh…"

Yazoo studied the floor, reading the names. Of all the places Yuffie had mentioned, where hadn't she been yet? Perhaps he could help her out. He spotted one.

"How about the Round Square?" he suggested.

Within splitseconds, the strangest combinations of things happened. Yuffie flushed red, and Yazoo swore that Vincent had blushed too, albeit not as much. His distant, calm posture was gone, replaced by waving hands, asking for Yazoo to back off.

"Oh, that's probably too crowded," he said hastily. Yuffie was nodding a little too quickly.

"Yeah, I'm no fan of rocking monorails, uh…"

"Skip that idea…" muttered Vincent. He was doing his utmost best to ignore Yuffie. Yazoo blinked. Had he said something that was unintentionally embarrassing? And what kind of name was Round Square anyway? It was the sort of name Loz would come up with.

It was only when Tifa took him to the Round Square, paying for the ride (Yazoo's stomach churned as he saw a waiting monorail) that she explained the previous events.

"The Round Square's a ride that's generally considered as intimate." Their eyes met briefly, and Tifa said with a little more emphasis, "Generally."

She leaned back on the wooden bench as Yazoo sat opposite. He was prepared for his motion sickness to kick off again, but surprisingly, this ride didn't rock as much.

"You get a good view of the Gold Saucer on this ride," Tifa said after a few moments, "perfect for first timers."

The monorail passed over the Ghost Hotel. Yazoo took that as an opportunity to look out of the window down below. He was still rather confused. If the Round Square was considered intimate, and ideal for people who were new to the Gold Saucer, why were Yuffie and Vincent so reluctant to go on, and more importantly, why did Tifa want to go on it?

"Do you like this ride?" he asked. He decided that it was more social to look away from the window. However, Tifa had resorted to look anywhere but at him, captivated by the sights outside.

"…I've never been on it before," she murmured. Yazoo stopped picking at his jeans. Sat opposite him was the lonely Tifa, the one that was concealed behind a bright smile. He shifted himself so that he was sitting up straighter.

"…Why not?"

Tifa laughed nervously. "I guess I forgot, the last time I came."

"You said that you always go to the fortune teller when you're here…do you mean to say that every time you come here, you forget--"

Yazoo stopped when he noticed Tifa squirming in her seat. He hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable. Quickly, he looked out of the window and was relieved to find something else to talk about.

"Which place is that?"

Tifa leaned over to peer out the window as well. "Oh…that's the Event Square. We can go there later on if you like. So long as we get there early…"

She was giving him that nervous look again. Yazoo wondered what it was about him. Perhaps the fact that he was a clone of Sephiroth unsettled her. After all, being a clone was one thing, being a Sephiroth clone was even worse, really. He sighed and banged his head against the wooden bench as he lay back. There was a dull thud, and Yazoo found that it didn't make his headache any better.

He was beginning to hate the silence. It was his job to be silent and listen, whilst Loz or Kadaj jabbered on and on. He wasn't used to starting conversations, entertaining others with humorous talk…thankfully, Tifa finally spoke up, but said something Yazoo wasn't really expecting.

"…Cloud won't go on this ride anymore."

Yazoo could feel his eyebrow twitch at the mention of that name. Arrogant, cocky Cloud, a single person who had quite easily ruined Yazoo and Loz's lives and more importantly, ended Kadaj's. He looked opposite him at Tifa, who was sat in an unusually passive position, one knee tucked under her chin and arms wrapped round the bent leg. Could it be possible that Cloud had also ruined hers? Had he hurt her?

"Don't worry about me, I'm talking nonsense." Tifa waved a hand, brushing his concern aside. "It's just a sudden thought that came to me."

Was Tifa hurt because Cloud wouldn't go on the monorail with her? Something clicked in Yazoo's head, and he felt so stupid in not noticing it before. For how much time did Cloud spend with Tifa? He was out on his delivery businesses, he was at the Battle Square, he was wherever Tifa wasn't.

There was a clear display of hurt as Tifa stared at the floor wordlessly. She clearly had something for Cloud, but he didn't notice it at all. Yazoo pondered for a moment. How could such a compassionate woman be ignored? Did Cloud do it on purpose? Or were Yazoo's speculations merely speculations?

He stared down at his jeans and then his shoes. Both belonging to Cloud. Perhaps, just perhaps, Tifa was staring at the jeans and shoes, imagining it was Cloud, not Yazoo, who sat opposite her.

They didn't speak again until the end of the ride.

* * *

**A/N:** Gah, I don't know what came over me when I wrote this :) It's such a weird chapter, but I enjoyed writing it. Oh, and the Wonder Catcher bit was inspired by Lucian's Angel87's review for chapter 6! Thanks, Lucian! As always, I'll just crawl on the floor and beg for a review – it doesn't hurt, I swear! It'll only waste 10 seconds of your day, and in one day, you have 86400! Damn, I'm sad. 


	9. Guilt

**A/N:** Eee, I'm so happy! Thank you all for so many reviews! Reviews are special, but reviewers are even more so! You're all so wonderful! Man, I didn't think this sort of fic would be popular but hey, I'm not complaining!

Let me fill you in on this chapter. It's a angsty one, but hopefully not intolerable-angst. Oh yeah, and Loz is back, and yep, he's actually doing more that sitting in some hospital knocked out. Also, I've decided to be cruel to Cloud and make him the bad guy in this fic altogether. There's something about his attitude I don't like. And bear with me on the YazooxTifa-ness: it'll arrive in time: fluffiness between them in this chapter. Because we all love fluff :)

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 9: Guilt**

Yazoo was being shaken. He opened his eyes, where a blurred face greeted him. He shifted. Judging by this slight movement, he was lying down somewhere comfortable and warm. He wanted to stay like this longer…

The hand shook him again. The grasp on his shoulder was firm and confident. Yazoo blinked his eyes into focus, and a cheeky grin met his gaze.

"Hoy, Yazoo! Wake up, you've been sleeping for hours!" Yuffie shook him again, and very unwillingly, Yazoo sat up, staring at her as though he had never seen her before. "Something wrong, Yazoo?"

He shook his head. He wasn't about to tell her that the likeness between her and Kadaj was uncanny, and that as such, he longed to see her grin in the hopes that miraculously, he'd feel closer to his brother.

He blinked furiously. The blurred splotches of colour sharpened into Cloud's room. Now all that was impeding his view was the unruly bangs over his left eye. Absently pushing them back, he looked down at his clothed self sat on the bed, and then around the bleak room, noting the darkness outside and how suddenly, a lot of baggage had been dumped on the floor. He recognised one of the bags as Tifa's.

Yuffie had one knee on the bed, hand still on his shoulder. In her other hand, she held a snack bar of some kind.

"Gawd, I've just had dinner and I'm still starving," she said when she saw what Yazoo was looking at.

"You've had dinner?" Yazoo swung his legs out of bed and Yuffie shrugged.

"You've been out of it for ages. Fell asleep back home, so once we reached 7th Heaven, Vinnie carried you here to let you rest. He only offered to carry you because otherwise Cid would've thrown you over the railing."

She spoke with a sudden moody tone that hadn't been present earlier. Her face clouded over, but almost instantly, she started nattering away again.

"I guess spending three days at the Gold Saucer was a bit too much for you. You enjoyed yourself though, I could tell."

She poked his arm teasingly and winked. "You hid behind Tifa a lot, but I know that despite that uninterested face of yours, you were having a good time."

Yazoo blinked uncomprehendingly. He hid behind Tifa? Now that he thought about it, he spent the whole of the three days with her. He had caught that Cactuer for her on the first day, as well as the Round Square…the second day, he had sat next to Tifa as a party was held for Marlene's birthday, as the group sang to her (Yazoo didn't – he hardly knew the words) as she opened her presents…the third day, Tifa had taken him to watch Chocobo Racing, placing bets together, and the trip was rounded off nicely with a visit to the Event Square.

He frowned. He really was hiding behind her, tagging along and wanting to be in her company.

Yuffie moved away from the bed. "Nothing wrong with it. Guess you two are getting along quite well."

Her sour mood had returned, however, before Yazoo could say anything, she opened the door and stepped out, casting a careless look behind her.

"If you want to talk to Loz, come downstairs."

Yazoo's heart leapt. Energy rushed down to his legs as he jumped to his feet. A smile grew on his face, but no one was there to see it except for his reflection as he passed the window to leave the room.

He followed after her, anxiously tugging at his sleeves. There were too many stairs; he had to get down quickly or else Loz would worry. The banister was too low for him since it was at children's height, and he stumbled a little. His heartbeat was increasing rapidly. Loz had been collected from the hospital – Yazoo was going to talk to him at last!

Yuffie pointed to the living room door, standing at Vincent's side. Yazoo barely took notice of the other man, ignoring his friendly gesture of holding the door open for him. He was going to see Loz, nothing else mattered at the moment.

Yazoo staggered over Vincent's foot into the room, panting. Where? Where was his brother? A sudden movement caught his eye.

Loz was resting one elbow on the back of the sofa as he stood behind it. The other arm hung in a sling. By the looks of it, his clothes were new; the fresh sky blue shirt and dark jeans he donned made him look virtually harmless, though the broad shoulders and well-built arms and chest could tell otherwise.

Yazoo swore it took him an eternity to cross the room, past the rug and coffee table. Loz was really there…!

Loz was smiling at him, with the same crinkled eyes he had always had. "Hey."

His voice had caught in his throat. For once, Yazoo had no reply, and resorted to giving a blank look. His arms ached to wrap themselves round his brother, he desperately wanted to bury his face in the crook of that strong neck, tell of everything in his mind…

His body wouldn't listen to him; he still couldn't find his voice. All he could do was stare at Loz, studying the splint and sling that his left arm now sported, the two cottoned broken fingers and then the faint scars down his pale face and chest. Silver hair which was usually swept back had odd strands that flopped forwards over the bandage round his head; he looked surprisingly older than he really was. The green slitted eyes, though as bright and alive as ever, were somewhat tarnished by the dark shadows underneath.

He was completely battered.

And Yazoo felt a painful, unknown emotion rising, forming into hot tears pouring down his cheeks and trembles running through his fingers. His knees gave way and he staggered forwards, where promptly, Loz caught him.

Yazoo could smell the sharp medicinal scent on his brother. He tightened his grip, biting his lower lip as he felt the splint into his ribcage.

"Hey, that hurts. I don't want to go back into hospital again." Loz spoke as though his brother's actions were amusing. "Why are you so clingy all of a sudden? You didn't think I'd be dead, did you?"

Yazoo let go of him, hastily wiping his cheeks. He shook his head to answer Loz's question, though more so to fulfil his ulterior motive of shadowing his watery eyes with his fringe.

"The whole time, you know, in and out of consciousness," Loz said with a shrug, "I knew you were okay somewhere, alive at least. And man, you're looking a lot healthier than I am – I've got go through three months with one arm. Your babysitting job's back."

He grinned lightly, but Yazoo didn't return it. Instead, he sank into a nearby armchair and dropped his head into his hands.

"How can you find the situation funny, Loz?" he muttered. "Look at the state you're in, stupid, look at where we're living."

He lifted his gaze to meet Loz's; the eldest had now sat down on the sofa anxiously.

"It's you and me now," Yazoo said. "Just us."

Loz picked at a cushion, tracing his fingers over the curly pattern. "I thought as much. Is that why you're all snappy?"

Yazoo couldn't believe what he was hearing and seeing. Kadaj was dead! News as upsetting as that, and still, Loz was acting as though he and Yazoo had met up for tea or something. Wasn't he distressed?

"Look, Yazoo," Loz addressed him with slight hesitance. "I know how much shit we're in. I couldn't stop thinking about it - I lost hours and hours of sleep."

He pointed to his face. "See these eye bags? I look like I've been punched in the face twice."

Yazoo treated him to a withering look, but Loz seemed immune to it, settling into the sofa more comfortably and resting his injured arm on his stomach.

"Anyhow, what matters is that we're alive. We can use this opportunity to make up for everything we've done."

Everything they'd done. Their dreams of finding their mother and becoming a family were pretty stupid in retrospect. They were driven by foolish, selfish desires, cutting down anything in the way with a mere swipe of the sword or a bullet to the head. And for them to realise their stupidity, Kadaj was the sacrifice. Loz was so beaten, a painful rush of guilt ran through Yazoo every time he looked at him, wondering: could he have done anything to save his brothers?

"It's just…" Yazoo mumbled. "Everything's so screwed up at the moment. Everything we ever worked for has gone."

He was sniffing again. His nose felt tingly and the bottom of his eyes became heavy with tears. In disgust, Yazoo raised his hand to dab at his eyes, but someone got there first. A clumsy hand pressed a tissue against his cheeks, roughly brushing his cheeks. Marlene smiled up at him.

"Don't cry Yazoo," she said, "you can get everything back if you try."

"That's right." Tifa set down a tray as she knelt down by the coffee table. "Once you hit rock bottom, the only way you can go is up."

Loz awkwardly received a mug of steaming tea from her, and to further enhance this feeling, Marlene came and sat next to him on the sofa. Yazoo fiddled with the tissue, eyes on the neatly assembled tray. The door was still open, allowing for a cool breeze to sweep in and as it were, giving Cloud a full view of the living room. The blonde stood still with arms folded, conversing with Vincent quietly.

"I thought I asked you to watch over them," Yazoo heard him say. "They could be conspiring."

"…I thought perhaps they'd appreciate some privacy." Vincent answered even more softly, and Yazoo turned his head away before their eyes could meet. He was inwardly grateful for Vincent granting him time alone with Loz, and it was as clear as anything that Tifa and Marlene were people who had that rare trait of compassion. But, Yazoo wondered, did he really deserve it all? As their brother, surely he was responsible for what had happened to Loz and Kadaj?

He didn't know guilt could hurt so much.

"Don't worry about Cloud spying on you two, I won't let him. He's just being paranoid." Tifa was saying.

"Yeah, he's a deliveryman, not a detective," Marlene piped up. She helped herself to a biscuit.

"I have to thank you for your hospitality. You've reunited me with my brother and I know I don't deserve to," Loz muttered. His good hand clenched the mug tighter. "After how I treated you…you know, that fight…"

"It's not like I tried to resolve it another way," Tifa said simply. "You have my thanks because you didn't hurt Marlene."

The conversation sounded miles away, despite being right in front of him. Yazoo could barely comprehend to what they were talking about. He was so confused…so guilty…

_I blame Cloud, but whenever he's not around, it's then that I realise I'm equally to blame._

"Yazoo!"

_Did I fail him?_

"Hey, Yazoo! Don't cry! Tell me what's wrong…!"

_Did I fail Kadaj as his brother?_

A strong hand Yazoo recognised as Loz's grabbed one of his shoulders. Suddenly, warmth engulfed him in the form of a familiar embrace. Loz's unkempt strands of silver tickled his cheek; Tifa had placed a hand gently on his knee. Marlene was asking if he was okay.

Such kindness. It only made him feel worse. He wiped at his face with a rough sleeve. Through the gaps of his fringe, he could just about see Tifa's concerned eyes. He felt foolish for crying, for being weak.

"Don't," he croaked to Loz.

Loz drew his arm away, staring at him in the eye with the common brotherly look he had. "You've been acting funny ever since you walked into this room. And I know you want to see two brothers, not one. And regardless of what happened, blaming yourself or anyone doesn't solve anything."

Yazoo let a weak smile cross his face. He sniffed and said hoarsely, "Am I that easy to read?"

"No one understands you better than I do," Loz replied matter-of-factly.

Yazoo peered through the gaps of his fingers, slowly letting his arms drop into his lap. Tifa was waiting. She caught one hand, holding it tightly as she knelt on the floor in front of him. Her eyes gave him reassurance without words, as did Marlene as she stood next to Loz, waiting for the tears to dry.

Yazoo sat still, staring down at his knees. Loz, Tifa and Marlene. Could the three combined fill in for Kadaj and relieve him of his guilt? And as Marlene had said before, was it possible for him to regain everything he had lost?

* * *

**A/N:** I told you it was angsty. But next chapter should be more lighthearted. This chapter was the reunion between Yazoo and Loz after all, and they ought to come to terms with the mess they're in, so that's why it's depressing. 

With that said, I'll round it off with a plea for you to review. My last chapter received so much feedback, I couldn't believe it! Thank you all! It was so great to read them all, particularly as I'm stuck in exams at the moment. I'd love to hear your opinion on this chapter too! So, please review!


	10. Laugh

**A/N:** Eee, I'm so happy all over again! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I'm aiming to reply to all my reviews now – it's the least I can do, I guess :). Thanks to Pandora Lockhart, Random, Fuu and Lucian's Angel87 for reviewing too – obviously I can't send replies to you personally.

Now that Loz is back and the whole mopey Kadaj's death part is over with, this chapter brings fluff and sole attention on Yazoo and Tifa. And yes, it's actually a happy chapter title! And I'm 10 chapters into this fic already…wow, I didn't think I'd make it past five because I'd run out of ideas or receive lots of flames for the too-eccentric pairing.

**To Fuu:** I assume that biscuits and cookies are the same thing, little round things with chocolate chips in them that melt if you hold them too long. Also, snooker is a billiard game very similar to pool. I think with pool, you shoot in the balls according to the numbers, whereas with snooker, you have to pot all of the red ones before moving on to another colour. I'm not entirely sure myself, but snooker's typically a game men play at pubs, as well as darts. It's also really boring to watch on TV.

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 10: Laugh**

If it was possible, 7th Heaven had a very chaotic order to it. With the exception of Barret, who had returned to Corel, and Cid, who expressed his opinion of Yazoo and Loz quite passionately before taking himself and _Sierra_ home, everyone started the work on revamping 7th Heaven. All sorts of assignments and tasks had been handed out to everyone, but unsurprisingly, it was difficult to stay on track. It was a week since Loz had arrived at the joint bar and orphanage, and he only served to enhance the children's lack of concentration and inability to sit still.

Yazoo knew that out of the three brothers, it was Loz who had the best social skills. He immediately took to the children, learning all of their names and even allowing for one of them to write on the bandage wrapped round his head. There was only so much Loz could do with a broken arm, but it didn't stop him. On the contrary, it was clear that he wanted to help the group redecorate, and had decided to collect the curled pieces of peeled wallpaper with his good arm as Marlene, Denzel and Owen ripped them off the wall.

Unfortunately, Loz's carefree attitude did nothing to cancel out the bleak, solemn air both Cloud and Yazoo had. The tension was high between the two, and Yazoo knew as much that Cloud didn't want to make amends, and that mirrored Yazoo's feelings perfectly.

Tifa had decided that if he wanted to, Yazoo could help her clear out the cupboards of the bar, dusting them clean as well as sorting through the cutlery. Since it was either that or collecting rubbish off the floor, Yazoo agreed and crouched down behind the bar, starting on a cupboard in the corner. He passed Tifa plates and bowls, maintaining that steady rhythm of him giving, her taking, until the cupboard was empty.

"It's quite filthy in there," Tifa said over his shoulder as she bent down to take a look. Yazoo personally didn't think so. He presumed that Tifa was a woman who liked things to be neat and orderly. He took a cloth from her wordlessly and began to sweep out the dust. It was certainly a change from reckless gun wielding fights and motorbike chases. Tifa appeared to be thinking along the same lines, for she said rather amusingly, "I suppose you're not used to housework."

"It's actually quite the opposite," Yazoo replied light heartedly. He pondered for a moment whether to continue, and deciding that it was unlikely that Tifa would laugh at him, he admitted, "I've always done the laundry for my brothers. Not that I minded. I was actually…rather fond of doing it."

Tifa quirked an eyebrow. Her feet shifted as her knees also rested on the floor; she opened the cupboard adjacent to Yazoo's. "Really? You don't strike me as a laundry person."

He wasn't too sure what features distinguished someone as a laundry person, and waited as the deep brown eyes scanned over him. During the moments of no conversation, the giggles of Marlene and Erica resounded over the bar.

"You look like a mechanic." Tifa came to her conclusion at last, shifting aside a stack of plates in the cupboard. "You look like you have a talent for repairing things, motorbikes and such."

Pushing aside his fringe, Yazoo blinked and allowed for a smile to creep onto his face. How Tifa was coming to these conclusions, he wasn't exactly certain.

He concentrated more in his task of clearing the cupboard; the sudden mention of repairing motorbikes had stirred a wistful memory in him.

Yazoo's grief and sadness was beyond tears and rage. He found he could no longer cry or get angry. He really had hit rock bottom, but what mattered was what he was going to do from here on. With Loz at his side, perhaps things would be a lot more manageable, and that in itself was a blessing.

And if Yazoo was going to start fresh, and make the most of the second chance he was given, the first obstacle was Kadaj. His name was not a taboo, as Yuffie seemed to think, and Yazoo was to make sure of that. He wasn't going to let his little brother be forgotten.

He shook his head, and said to Tifa, "Kadaj was the mechanic. He fixed our bikes when they were broken."

He scraped at the shelf in the cupboard a few more times, setting his attention back onto that rather than the woman's response next to him. To talk of Kadaj, where previously it had hurt, aroused a sense of pride in him. Even in his short life, Kadaj had accomplished and experienced many things. Yazoo could at least be thankful for that.

"I never met your brother," Tifa said quietly. She seemed hesitant to continue the conversation, but as she spoke, a smile graced her face. "By the sounds of it, you were very close. It must be wonderful to have siblings who care so much for you."

Yazoo listened to Loz's prompt laughter nearby. He picked at the threads of the cloth absently. "Do you have sib--"

He quickly cut off his question. Someone else had addressed Tifa, leaning on the counter and casting a long shadow over it. Tifa stood up to talk to Cloud, but Yazoo chose to stay ducked down, cleaning the inside of the cupboard vigorously. He was in no hurry to start a conversation with Cloud.

"Tifa, I've just had another delivery call. It's a bit awkward, since I want to help out here too." Cloud jerked his head slightly in the direction of the children; Yazoo looked up and wondered if he could be seen by the blonde.

That was answered when Cloud said after a few seconds, "Where's the other one?"

"Yazoo?" Tifa said. "He's cleaning out the cupboards with me."

Her right hand gestured towards him, and Yazoo stopped with the cleaning. He waited for a snappy retort to come in his head. Nothing came, so reluctantly, Yazoo stood up and greeted Cloud with a very small nod. Cloud returned it (the look on his face suggested that this action was painful) and then resumed his conversation with Tifa.

Now stood up with a good view of the bar, Yazoo riveted his attention to that of Yuffie and Vincent, who were having a somewhat frantic argument with each other under the light. It hung from a high ceiling in a lopsided way. Between the two was a small stepladder that, with its battered shape and uneven legs, looked highly unreliable. Laying on the stepladder was a blue feathery duster.

"I don't like the angle we'll be in," she hissed. "Me on top of that stepladder and you at the bottom? That's just…n-no, no way."

"Yuffie, you're in shorts, not a skirt," Vincent muttered.

"_So_?" she fired back. "That doesn't change t-the…you know…angle! You go up, I won't rock the ladder this time, I promise."

"That's what you said last time."

"I had to scratch my cheek!" Yuffie said through her teeth.

"Okay then." Vincent sighed in defeat and started to climb the stepladder as Yuffie held it steady.

"Yuffie certainly likes to make things difficult for Vincent." Tifa spoke blandly next to Yazoo, observing the somewhat suggestive scene (Yuffie's cheeks were flushed scarlet, and Vincent's eyes kept darting away from the task at hand). Cloud by the looks of it had gone out from the bar. The front door to 7th Heaven was left open a margin, where a cool breeze sifted past the crowd of children, over the counter and through Yazoo's tresses.

Gesturing with a small wave of her hand to the stack of plates on the counter, she said, "Let's sort through these, and then we can help put up the wallpaper – the old one's nearly all peeled."

Yazoo assumed that Tifa was going to work silently as they cleared up the kitchen, and for a few minutes, that was how it was. The children were talking more animatedly with Loz, and Vincent, with Yuffie's help, was attempting to free his hair and shoulders from the dust that had fallen from the light. It isolated Yazoo and Tifa, perhaps serving to remind them that they were stood alongside each other, separating good plates from old plates.

"So…" Tifa started. "You're into laundry, what else?"

Yazoo cringed at how it sounded. Having laundry as his hobby was far too feminine; it was cramping his style. Tifa was laughing at his contorted face.

"There's nothing wrong with liking laundry." Her eyes reflected amusement, possibly admiration. "The other day, I asked if Cloud would help me with the ironing – he looked at me as though he'd never heard what it was."

Yazoo looked up from a chipped, flower-patterned plate. Didn't Cloud help with the housework? Now that he thought about it, Cloud did bring in the money to keep so many children at 7th Heaven. Was it a good enough excuse though?

His stomach dropped a few more inches when a nauseous reminder cropped up in his head: that he too did nothing much to help round the house.

"I'll…I'll help if you want." Yazoo ran his tongue over his teeth, wondering why it was so hard to offer a hand. Why were his palms sweating? "Next time you do the laundry…I'll help."

* * *

Yazoo was in the living room when night finally took its toll and shadowed 7th Heaven in grim darkness; however, being inside and curled up cosily on the sofa,his mood was hardly affected.

Tifa had brought down an item from the attic, sweeping off the thick layer of dust before setting it on the table and challenging Loz to a game of chess.

"Round two of our fight?" she had joked. Unsurprisingly, Marlene and Owen (who followed Loz endlessly as though they were stuck to him) sat on the rug by Loz, colouring with felt tips whilst looking up occasionally to see how the chess was progressing.

Yazoo sat on the right hand side of Tifa, clutching a warm mug of tea. At first, drinking tea in the evening just before bed was something only Tifa did, but since Yazoo tended to spend the evenings with her, she now always made two mugs. It was a nice way to round off the day, and if Yazoo was to be honest with himself, he enjoyed watching hot water transform itself to a rich brown with the simple addition of a teabag.

Loz and Tifa's game of chess was interesting to watch for Yazoo. Not only was he content in sitting still, sipping on his tea, he was at ease when observing Loz's antics. Leaning back with his hand picking at the frayed edges of his sling, the older brother's face was scrunched in thought, eyes flicking from piece to piece.

"Hmm," he said after some thought. "Not bad, Tifa."

He pushed forward a castle, and out the corner of his eye, Yazoo saw Tifa frown. He leaned forwards a little more to study the chessboard. As Tifa took up a horse with two fingers, Loz's eyes flashed, and it would have passed unnoticed if the corners of his mouth didn't twitch slightly. Yazoo knew that look, and put it to his advantage.

"Don't move the horse," he said lowly, "that's what he wants you to do. Move the pawn, and you'll fork two of his pieces."

Tifa complied, and Loz groaned, sinking back in his armchair, fingers drumming on his stomach.

"I should've guessed you'd interrupt this fight as well," he muttered. Tifa looked up from the chessboard.

"As well?" She turned round to look at Yazoo so quickly, he nearly received a mouthful of her dark hair.

Loz gave her a tired, almost fed up smile, one hand reaching up to his floppy fringe, which, due to the lack of gel, fell over his eyes every now and then and had to be pushed back regularly.

"Yeah, that was Yazoo on the phone when we fought." He jerked his head in Yazoo's direction, adding out the corner of his mouth, "He might not look it, but he's a real bully."

Yazoo was ready to roll his eyes at Loz's remark, however, as the oldest brother moved a pawn one square forward to the end of the board, grinning.

"There we go, my Queen's back now."

"I'm drawing it." Marlene straightened up from her bent position, holding in one hand a black felt tip pen and in the other, Loz's white queen. Scattered idly around her knees were the rest of his taken pieces.

"But I need it now – all of my next moves are planned around her…" explained Loz.

"How about drawing another piece, Marlene?" Tifa suggested. She then arched her eyebrows at Loz, slyly adding, "Or better still, give up with getting your Queen back."

It was amazing how powerful Marlene's eyes could be, Yazoo noted. It seemed that Loz couldn't even win an argument with a child, and was surprisingly helpless as Marlene refused to give in to his weak pleadings: according to her, her drawing was far more important than Loz's victory over Tifa.

Yazoo looked on with a smile at first, but felt a pleasant ripple somewhere in the bottom of his stomach, working its way up his throat. Yazoo couldn't hold it in any longer, and with an uncharacteristic snort, cracked a wide grin as he laughed.

A warm feeling washed over him, soothing and relaxing, and he was pretty sure it wasn't the tea.

* * *

**A/N:** Don't ask me why I decided to make Yazoo's favourite hobby the laundry, though I do think that out of the three brothers, Yazoo's the mumsy one. Anyways, hope you liked it, and review, yeah? It won't hurt, promise. 


	11. Stardust

**A/N:** An update again! I'm on a roll – I've got too many ideas (for this fic anyway)…Before the chapter though, obviously these notes come first!

Most importantly, thank you for reviewing! They keep me going, they really do – I'm so glad that many of you are enjoying this weird idea of a pairing. Also, thanks to anonymous/not logged in reviewers Fuu, Taiyo and Sol for taking the time to review.

Now info for this chapter: it's mainly Yazoo and Tifa, and bordering on a depressing theme again. But not quite. At least, that's not what I was aiming for. It just…turned out like that. Interpret it how you will. Also, I've shed a bit more light on Cloud here and Yuffie and Vincent's relationship. But not in a good way –evil grin-. Please read and let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 11: Stardust**

It was one of those awkward nights where Yazoo woke up when it was darkest, desperate for the toilet. Having spent the whole day putting up new wallpaper in the bar and doing the housework, curling up in bed and getting some good shuteye seemed logical and desirable. His bladder persisted.

One hand felt for the bedside lamp, and he used the other to ease himself out of bed. The lamp lit up with an audible _ding_. The sudden change from darkness to light stung his eyes, but if had no effect on Loz, who slept on the other side of the room. His regular snores were muffled by his good hand, which rested palm-up over his face.

It had been decided that the two brothers would have the spare bedroom. It was originally too cluttered to even count as a room suitable to sleep in, but with the help of some very eager children, it was tidied up and converted into what Marlene fervently called the Silvery Room, named after their hair. She had even made special plaques to have on the end of the beds, reading their names. Loz didn't mind at all, and let Marlene hang the "Loz" plaque, though Yazoo was more reluctant. The sweet actions and care Marlene had only served to involve Yazoo more and include him and Loz in the family. Perhaps that was her aim. Perhaps she and all the other children genuinely wanted them to be family.

The trip from his bed to the door was not far at all, and in good light. However, when he reached the landing, he found that he was once again plunged into darkness. He felt across the wall, placing one foot gingerly in front of the other.

He finally reached the bathroom, and pulled the cord for the light to come on. The clock read 12:35. It was no wonder why he felt so stiff and tired. He quickly relieved himself, did the flush and washed his hands. The edge of the sink had been decorated with seashells that matched the bath and the tiles. Yazoo took a moment to admire the periwinkles and conches, before heading back onto the landing. He was expecting it to be dark, but someone had switched on the light, illuminating the narrow hallway and the stairs.

"Can't sleep either?" Tifa whispered from across her door at the other end. She was dressed in sky blue silk pyjamas that had a summery look to them; they were barely creased, and her hair tumbled over her shoulders smoothly. There was still make up on her face. She didn't look like she had been sleeping at all.

"No, actually, I needed to use the bathroom." Yazoo gestured behind him. The moment he had said it, he saw Tifa's eyes shift nervously. "Can't you sleep?"

He didn't even need to ask. Not only did Tifa hint at it, but those dark brown orbs were all he had to look at. He had never seen her so insecure. Where had the confident composure gone? Or was that only reserved for daytime?

He decided to walk over to her, joining her at the door. Giving her a suggestion seemed appropriate. What did he do when he couldn't sleep?

Somehow, he didn't think Tifa would approve of his proposition of waking up Loz and annoying him. An idea hit him.

"When Kadaj couldn't sleep, he always took a walk." Yazoo ran his tongue over his lips before continuing; he could feel the ends of the long dark hair tickling his arm. "When he came back, he always felt better."

They were close. He was under the impression that they both knew this. They held a wordless conversation with their gazes; she was looking up at him with simple trust, a faint, delicate smile that almost bordered on shy.

Tifa looked away first, breaking the silence. "I think a walk might do the trick. Did…did you want to come along?"

Secretly, Yazoo wished for nothing more than to go back to sleep, but there were two things that were quite concerning.

First, it was plain and simple to see that Tifa trusted him enough to want to take a walk with him. In the dead of night? Did she have such faith that he could be good? And had he actually accomplished it?

Secondly, and more worryingly, Yazoo realised that despite his fatigue, the offer was tempting. Yes, even if it was at midnight, where he was ready to drop off to sleep any moment, he wanted to talk to Tifa, walk beside her and listen to her voice.

"You're probably tired." Tifa interrupted his thoughts. "I don't blame you. You've done so much to help over these last few days."

"So have you," he pointed out, "but you still can't sleep. Is something worrying you?"

"Oh…not particularly," Tifa's reply was offhand, but her eyes were betraying her.

"I'll take a walk with you anyway," Yazoo said with a resolute tone he didn't put on very often. It was more so to convince himself that it was okay to take a midnight walk, for the benefit of someone else.

His reply had cheered up Tifa already. The smile was back, lingering for the longest time that night. "Thank you."

"Let's get some sensible clothes." He studied his pyjamas, and then hers. Exchanging quick nods of agreement, they slipped back into their own rooms. Yazoo was careful not to wake Loz as he changed and switched off the lamp. He was even more cautious as he passed Cloud's room. Yazoo doubted the blonde would take it too well if he found out Tifa was leaving the house with only a Sephiroth clone for company.

Yazoo felt an odd thrill run through him. It suddenly became exciting: sneaking out the bar into the fresh night when he was supposed to be sleeping.

Tifa was waiting for him downstairs, now dressed in a simple pair of jeans and loose blouse. She was pulling on her usual knee length coat; it was the one she had put over Yazoo when he was motion sick on the Highwind. It was remarkable how much she had done for him. The least Yazoo could do was take a walk with her when she was anxious.

The night was windless and only slightly cold; the road was lit up by a gibbous moon and the occasional streetlight. Once or twice, they passed some fellow midnight travellers, but for most of the walk, they went unnoticed. Tifa seemed to have a set destination, choosing an intricate route of main roads and narrow side streets. Her pace slowed down when they reached a long stretch of dusty road – it was debatable as to whether it should still be called a road, since either side of it, only the foundations and structures of buildings were left, skeletal and frail. A few of them had gaping holes where the windows were meant to be, and others only had walls that reached knee level.

On rounding the corner, they took care to not trip over the large chunks of cemented bricks, which had clearly rolled off from the building they were originally part of. Just up ahead of them was an equally crumbled building. It was more built on one side, shadowing the other. Several stories high with arched windows and a large entrance, Yazoo's first impression was that this had been a town hall of some kind. The fallen building would have perhaps been quite grand once, as would have the gaping archway whose doors were nowhere to be seen. Yet despite its crumbled state, it retained some of its grandeur, standing as tall as it could even when those around it weren't. It was only when Yazoo walked through the doorway that he realised he was in fact, inside a church.

The church barely even had a roof, of which its panelling had obvious holes where moonlight poured through to leave jagged shapes on the wooden floor. Stain glass windows were lined up neatly against the back wall, slender and colourful in their design. They seemed to light up, even in the night, casting patterns of pink, cyan and specks of lavender here and there.

Pews were tidily arranged either side of an aisle, where instead of an altar there was a large pool. Slightly lower than the flooring of the church, the water undulated, unbothered by the midnight visitors. A number of flaxen petals had settled on the surface, unmoving in their presence unlike the fragments of light that leaped and danced over ripples.

"That's not normal water," said Tifa. She stood with one foot nudging a small chunk of wood aside, peering into the deep pool. "It would be an idea not to touch it."

Instead, she chose to sit at the edge, huddling her knees up so they were under her chin. Unsure of what to do, Yazoo watched her from behind, seeing not a zestful, radiant Tifa Lockheart, but a frail, repressed woman curled up on creaking floor. He felt he barely knew her.

"I feel a bit silly now." Tifa lifted her head up from her arms. "Dragging you out here to clear my head. I could have waited until a sensible time."

He sat next to her, awkwardly at first, getting his feet caught with each other. Yazoo adjusted himself so he was now cross-legged, not too close to be intimidating or otherwise, not too far to count as aloof. They were facing the dark pool, occasional dashes of light skimming the surface. At one of his knees, two bowed petals quivered in the light wind. He picked them up and dropped them into the pool one after the other.

"I don't mind," was his simple reply. And he didn't. As tired as he was, it wasn't as though he hadn't experienced it before. Fatigue was nothing. His concern for Tifa wasn't.

"I have to thank you for a lot of things." Her arms stopped hugging her knees, dropping to rest on her ankles as she crossed her legs and looked toward him. "Not only have you helped round the house, you've been great company, and…most importantly…" Her voice fell to a murmur, "you've proven to Cloud it's possible to start over when you feel as though the world's just crashed down on you."

Yazoo hadn't a clue for what Tifa was talking about, but he nodded a little, pretending he understood. Tifa continued. She gained more and more confidence as she spoke, fingers entwining themselves with her shoelaces. "He's so lost and confused, he doesn't know what's hit him. He can't make up his mind to forgive you and Loz or not. I mean, he's done things for you indirectly, but then he starts to wonder if it was the right thing to do." She raked her hair, keeping her gaze firmly set away from him. "Sometimes, it's unbearable. He finds it so hard to trust you, and it's always on his mind. I hate to see him like that. I want to tell him it's okay for him to be unsure."

She finally met his gaze. Yazoo took it as a cue for him to say something. Something reassuring, and at the same time, truthful. It was all about whether he and Loz could be trusted. He doubted Cloud was comfortable seeing his family mingle with clones. It didn't help at all when Yazoo deliberately avoided Cloud. It was no wonder why the blonde thought he was a shifty person.

He only realised now that those actions he and Cloud took, averting gazes and cutting conversations to a minimum, were a perfect way to upset Tifa. She only wanted them to get along.

"I think I'm partly to blame for it," he said at last. "It's awkward around him, but I'll try and change that."

"I didn't mean for you…" Tifa started. Yazoo cut her off with a shrug.

"If you want to tell him it's fine to be unsure, you might as well tell him." He gave her a small smile; it was strange – but oddly pleasant – to be smiling at someone who wasn't his brother. "You're a very reassuring person."

"So are you," she answered easily. She sat up straighter; her whole frame glowed in what light there was. Was it Yazoo's imagination, or was she blushing?

"I don't know what it is about you, but there's definitely something. The way you speak, _what_ you actually speak about, I don't know what it is." Her face shone as she quite cheerfully admitted, "I find myself impatient for everyone to finish their dinner, so I can wash the dishes with you."

The collar of his jumper suddenly felt too tight; a warm sensation rippled through his stomach. Did someone actually enjoy his company? The company of a withdrawn, distant clone?

Tifa laughed softly at his dazed expression. Yazoo almost felt stupid, willing enough to go dig his grave, but Tifa was on her feet, a lucid beam accompanying sparkling eyes. She had gone back to her spirited self again.

Her mood was contagious, Yazoo found, as they walked back to 7th Heaven together. Taking a detour, the two had a particularly good view of the sky. As cloudy as Edge was, situated next Midgar, there were those odd stars just about visible behind the haze. The moon had sunk lower, closer to the horizon, and by the time they reached the bar, the starlit, almost dreamlike environment had disappeared.

Yazoo swore he had never been in a better mood, still repeating Tifa's words in his head and amazed with himself for winning a friend. He was really settling into a new family.

"Thanks for everything tonight," said Tifa. "I feel a lot better."

To his own dismay, Yazoo realised he was only half listening. Something else had caught his attention. Although he wasn't entirely certain, he swore he heard a sniff. Was someone else awake in the house?

He disregarded it and fixed his attention on Tifa, quickly whispering her name as they ascended the stairs together.

"I haven't properly thanked you for finding me that night," he said quickly. Tifa stopped on the last stair, turning round. "After the explosion…everything after it – I can't remember what I was doing. I don't remember ever leaving the rubble…I'm…I'm thankful you found me and took me in."

He expected a simple verbal answer, but on the contrary, Tifa stretched out a hand and patted his shoulder very briefly before going into her room.

It was only when he was certain Tifa's bedroom door had closed, did Yazoo leave his room, crossing the landing and going down the stairs as quickly, yet quietly, as possible. His bare feet hardly registered the cold floor as he passed the door to the bar. He stopped at the living room. He had been right. There were others awake.

It was Yuffie sat curled on the armchair, sniffing. Yazoo could just about make out the back of Vincent's head. Submitting to the none-too-comfortable feeling on intruding on a conversation, he had the intention of simply going back upstairs to bed, but his name was mentioned. He stopped in his tracks, back against the wall, listening.

"…Do you have to compare us to Tifa and Yazoo?" Vincent murmured. "I don't think it helps much."

"You think that attitude does?" Yazoo had never heard Yuffie's voice be so sharp; his happy mood was deteriorating at an amazing speed. "You saw Tifa at the Gold Saucer. Goofy happy. Why weren't we like that? Why do you get so awkward now? You played along with every flirt I had."

There was another sniff. Yazoo wanted to leave, but inside of him, something compelled for him to stay and listen a little bit longer. He chewed his lower lip.

"I'm not a sixteen year old with a schoolgirl crush anymore, Vincent," she continued. "Sure, it might've started off that way, but…"

"Yuffie, I'm more than flattered that you feel that way, but…" There was a long pause. Yazoo waited, fiddling with the hem of his jumper. "…Look at me, Yuffie. I'm a monster. You deserve better. You can do better."

"A monster?" Yuffie repeated. The armchair creaked a little. "If you're a monster, what does that make Yazoo? He's a Sephiroth clone, isn't he? He's worse than a monster, but do you see Tifa caring? He certainly seems to have forgotten about who he really is."

"Don't talk about him that way." Vincent, throughout the conversation, had kept his voice level and calm, but there was a hint of impatience in his tone as he said this. "It doesn't make him Sephiroth."

"He was bad enough," was the sulky response. "I don't know if you remember, but he and that mad brother of his were pretty intent on killing Cloud."

"Yuffie, that's harsh. You were keen to give them a chance--"

"It doesn't matter, it's not about Yazoo. It's about us. What are we?" Yuffie's voice was cracking, wavering on a higher pitch than usual. "Are we just friends who kiss every now and then?"

Yazoo never heard Vincent's response. He was still stood outside the living room, but their talking was suddenly far away; he didn't seem to be able to hear anything but the steady thumping of his heart as his back pressed against the wall.

Family? Friends? What was all that rubbish he had been believing in earlier?

His bare feet stung from the cold floor, breathing ragged and rough. He staggered up the stairs, grasping the banister. The landing swung into view; he stumbled into his room and collapsed onto his bed.

What was he playing at?

* * *

**A/N:** Woot, you reached the end – well done :) I had Yuffie be a bit of a bitchy girl here, since I thought that she'd probably be a bit jealous of Yazoo and Tifa getting on nicely. I know she's meant to be hyper and all that, but I think there is a side to her that's somewhat more serious and dark. So that's why her character was like that.

Now you know why Vincent and Yuffie are in this fic – not only are they friends of Tifa etc. I use them for comparisons. Maybe it's just me who can see a very vague similarity between Vincent and Yazoo. Ah, whatever.

Also, the church (which I've hoped you've noticed) is Aeris' church, which should come into play a bit later. Perhaps a rare handful of people feel a bit sorry for Cloud for being confused, but think of him how you will.

And as a final note, the chapter's called 'Stardust' by the reason that there were stars in the sky (duh) and also because it can mean a dreamlike or all too optimistic state, suiting Yuffie and Yazoo's predicaments.

They were very long notes, sorry! Anyways, please take the time and review – I'd really like to know what you think of this poor excuse of a YazooTifa fic.


	12. Introspection

**A/N:** Woot, my exams are all done, people! I'm actually pretty lucky since my exams finish a lot earlier than my friends, which is very nifty. Anyways, after a long absence I've done chapter 12 now! It's the longest chapter I've ever done. I'm amazed. Usually I struggle to write long chapters :) Now I just need to know if it's actually any good. 

My next very important announcement is to thank everyone who reviewed chapter 11 – I'm really glad you liked the YazooTifa interaction – it was damn hard to write! Also, thanks to anonymous/not logged in reviewers albel the wicked one, Sol, Pandora Lockhart and Fuu for taking the time to review the previous chapter! And yes, this fic has over 200 reviews! I can't stop looking at the number – it's the most reviews I've received yet! Thank you so much to everyone who did review, you guys are the best!

There's more 'Tizoo' (mm, actually sounds quite good!) in this chapter, not so much for Yuffie and Vin, but this is all from Yazoo's POV so it's limited with those two for how much time they get. Anyways, enjoy your read!

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 12: Introspection**

Yazoo woke up every hour or so that night. The glowing hands of the alarm clock on the side table told him so, ticking away to read 2:33, 3:42, 4:31…He swore that minutes weren't that long, that a night's worth of sleep wasn't that long at all…

The sole consolation he had was the steady, unworried breathing of Loz, whose head Yazoo could just about make out if he looked past the table's alarm clock to the bed near the door. In all honesty, he had been tempted to wake his brother at least three times. But in spite of this restlessness and the fact that he had been out on a midnight walk, he was wide awake at 6:00am the following morning.

He was mildly surprised to find that as he exited the bathroom after showering, the previously deserted corridor was now teeming with children in a rush. Owen was shouting down the stairs, Erica was rummaging through the laundry drawers and Denzel was struggling to do his tie. Everyone bar Loz was apparently awake.

"Hey Yazoo," Denzel caught him lingering by the bathroom in surprise, and scooted over. "Could you…?"

Yazoo looked down at the stripy blue and brown tie hanging round the child's neck, and replied in a dignified way as possible, "I'm sorry…I've never worn a tie before."

He went back to his room to comb his wet hair, greeting Loz with a vague "Morning". He was absorbed in combing his hair and wiping his face free from drops of water, but was not absorbed enough to completely block out his thoughts of Yuffie last night.

He had really been convinced that he could fit into this family, and someone brought him back to reality. He was a Sephiroth clone. That wasn't something he should forget.

Yazoo pulled the door open grimly, staring into the corridor without much notice. Yuffie had been quite upset. And quite honest too. Perhaps if everyone had the chance to be honest, they'd say the same as Yuffie.

"Yazoo!"

He jumped. Loz stood with his brow crinkled and eyes searching.

"Yazoo, are you okay? You were zoned out at the door – I had to call you three times!" He looked indignant for a moment, before his face softened. "Had a bad dream?"

There was an uncommon, awkward silence between the two of them. It all did feel dream like suddenly, remembering the walk with Tifa, the crumbled church and Yuffie in the living room. Had it all really happened?

"A really bad dream," Yazoo confirmed. Loz's shoulders relaxed. "Though it was good to start off with."

"Well, why don't you tell me about it? It might make you feel better," answered Loz. It was obvious how prompt and expectant he was. Yazoo cringed mentally. Telling his brother about a midnight trip and eavesdropping on a conversation that was hardly comforting was not something he wanted to do; he wasn't certain how Loz would respond to it.

With a guilty look, he muttered, "No…it's…I don't really remember much of it."

"Oh."

Yazoo walked out of the room so that he didn't have to see Loz's look of disappointment. It was quite difficult at times; when his brother was so considerate, it could almost count as an intrusion on his privacy.

Loz called him again moments later, and he stopped on the second stair. Erica rushed past him, down the stairs within seconds and out of sight.

"Hey, Yazoo…" Loz said uneasily. "Could you do up my shirt buttons please?"

Behind the sling, a pale green cotton shirt covered Loz's torso, although very badly. Some of the buttons were only half in the holes, and the only one which was successful had been hooked round the wrong hole. His collar stuck up on one side.

"Oh, damn…sorry." Yazoo stood in front of his brother and took the shirt. Loz shifted his injured arm a little. "Sorry Loz, I completely forgot."

He really had forgotten. He was so lost in thought that his usually organised mind had been thrown off course. He had to get himself together.

"Must have been an awful dream," Loz commented lightly. Yazoo managed a smile, even if inside, his guilt intensified and grappled his stomach from hearing his brother's naiveté.

By the time they got downstairs, breakfast had already started. Yazoo was already set on the decision of not making eye contact with Yuffie for fear of what she'd say next, but it was nothing to worry about: Yuffie was immersed in eating her slice of toast, head down and arms slightly forward on the table. She was spreading far too much jam on the toast.

Vincent was eating breakfast by himself as well, unless the lone fly that zoomed round the light and occasionally round his shoulders counted. Studying him, Yazoo wondered why Vincent willingly called himself a monster. He didn't feel that this question would be a good way to start a conversation, so, noting that Vincent also was in no mood to look up from his breakfast, Yazoo gazed to his right.

Tifa was already looking at him. Clad in a cotton dressing gown wrapped over her pyjamas, she was cutting up a ridiculous amount of carrots. She gestured to the space next to her, behind the counter. A second peeler was already laid out.

He liked this gesture. It was like he was being asked to join, that in no way should he think he was intruding. He was allowed to stand behind the counter, and help with breakfast as though it was perfectly okay for him to do so.

"Good morning," she greeted with a smile. Yazoo returned it automatically as he washed his hands under the tap. It was refreshing to feel the blast of cold water; perhaps it wasn't quite impossible to forget last night and carry on. Besides the obvious moods of Yuffie and Vincent, everything was pretty much normal. If Yazoo could call it that.

He started peeling a carrot like Tifa, albeit at a much slower pace. The peeler was a tad too small for him, and knowing his luck, he had probably picked a stubborn carrot. Tifa's attention abruptly moved away from her peeling, casting a sweeping gaze around the bar before closing the gap between them so that their arms brushed against each other as they worked.

"About last night," she said in an undertone, arranging Yazoo's peeler so that he held it properly. "No one else needs to know about it, so, if we could keep it under wraps…particularly since that church's quite an important place to Cloud…"

"I won't tell anyone," Yazoo said firmly. He hoped he was being sincere. Loz could get him to talk quite easily if he felt something was being hidden from him.

He started peeling again. The carrot nearly fell from his grip as he did so. His hand felt awkward, since not only did it now grip the peeler in an odd way, it tingled from when Tifa's fingers had grazed his. He watched as Tifa finished peeling, chopped up the carrot and put the sticks in one of many waiting plastic boxes.

"The children go back to school today." Tifa saw where he was looking. "That's why we're all up early and why the children are acting as though a swarm of bees have just hit them."

As if by rehearsal, two children skidded into the bar, books in their arms and expressions that could pass for someone who had just done a hundred metre sprint. One of them, namely Owen (the kid who Yazoo thought was a bit of a brat) clambered onto a barstool opposite him and watched as he and Tifa peeled carrots.

"Tifa's better at cutting carrots than you are."

Yazoo didn't need to be told that. He had scraped the skin off the carrot in such a way that the small orange pieces had plastered themselves onto his fingers; the vegetable itself was so mangled and deformed, it didn't look like a carrot anymore.

"Well, with enough practice, anyone can become a chef." Tifa spoke matter-of-factly, as though she didn't mind at all that Yazoo was creating such a mess.

"I don't know, Tifa," mused Loz, joining the three and proving unable to resist grinning at Yazoo's work, "Yazoo's had enough practice, but he's still a guaranteed disaster in the kitchen."

He settled down onto a barstool next to Owen; the amused grin on his face seemed to have no intention of fading. So this was how Loz was going to thank him for doing up his buttons for him.

"Remember the time I tried to teach you how to make banoffee pie?" He chuckled reminiscently.

"As clearly as I remember you failing to understand how a washing line worked," returned Yazoo. Owen looked between the two. Tifa was struggling to not show her fascinated smile.

"At least my failure for that didn't result in us spending a whole afternoon scraping banana sludge off the cooker so that we could actually _see_ it." With an indignant cross of his arms, Loz rolled his eyes towards Tifa.

"No," replied Yazoo, picking up a new carrot and hoping his peeling skills would improve on this one, "your incompetence resulted in Kadaj being flattened by wet bedsheets and clothes pegs."

Kadaj had yelled so much that day that he had forced Loz into a stream of tears worse than the usual, Yazoo recalled, but now, the eldest had a faraway look, smiling fondly at the memory. Then, he cast a wistful look as he shut the lid of a packed lunchbox for Tifa. She changed the subject.

"Do you like cooking?"

Loz brightened in an instant. "I _love_ it," he enthused. "I always cooked for us, before we, well, er…back when we had a house anyway."

"And what do you cook?" Owen demanded, though his eyes were fixed on Yazoo peeling the carrot.

"All sorts," Loz grinned. He began to count a few on his good hand. "Starters, breakfasts, dinners, desserts if I feel like it, salads…I also do sauces – carbonara, white sauce, tartare…"

"Tartare?" Yazoo repeated.

"Yeah, we had some on our birthday, remember?"

Yazoo didn't remember at all. He chopped up the carrot awkwardly with a knife. The vegetable slipped from his grip as though it didn't want to be cut. How Loz could genuinely enjoy something like this, Yazoo had yet to fathom out.

"When you say 'our birthday', do you mean that you two have the same birthday?" Owen spoke as though it was a serious offence.

"Well, not exactly…we don't really know what _day_ we were er…born…" He laughed nervously "…so we just made it simple and set our birthday on January 1st."

"That's a good idea," commented Tifa. She finished making the lunchboxes, lining them up on the counter and beginning to clean up.

"Mine's October 14th, one day after Vincent's," Owen chipped in. Yazoo thought the kid's contribution was a tad unnecessary, however, it gave way for him to participate in the conversation (he was starting to realise he was being left out).

"When is your birthday?" he asked Tifa.

"May 3rd."

He looked behind him at the haphazard corkboard, where pinned on it was a calendar. He noticed it was on the wrong month.

"About a week from now," said Tifa. She offered a smile and a shrug. "It's all right though – I won't be holding a raving party or something. Just another nice day in May."

May 3rd. Seemed like a nice day for a birthday. Tifa deserved such a glorious, sparkling day that crossed from Spring to Summer perfectly. It was unfortunate that she had no intention of making the most of it.

"Don't you want to celebrate?" he questioned her.

"Parties aren't really my thing." She nudged his ribs. Yazoo, who wasn't expecting such an action, stumbled a little. "Why? Do you really want to party? Are you a party animal?"

Loz snorted, laughing blithely; it was only a matter of seconds before both Tifa and Owen joined in. Scowling, Yazoo supposed that they were picturing him – withdrawn, pragmatic Yazoo – raving uncharacteristically like a madman at some bash. He decided that Loz was being most unhelpful today. First the teasing about his cooking and now this.

A finished plate was dumped onto the counter abruptly, cutting the laughs short. Yazoo looked up to meet stormy grey eyes.

"Gawd, you guys jabber like old women at the hairdressers'." Yuffie only held her gaze to Yazoo's for a brief moment before turning completely to Tifa. "I hope you don't mind Teef, I'm just going to take time out today. Not feeling well."

"Oh, go ahead," Tifa replied graciously. She was oblivious to Yuffie's lie, having – unlike Yazoo – the sense to not eavesdrop on chats. "You do look a bit under the weather…"

'Under the weather' was not the term Yazoo would have used to describe her. Yuffie's brow was creased, and her lips were unable to stop frowning. Her eyelids were apparently heavy to hold up, giving her a tired, worn out look.

He, Loz and Tifa watched wordlessly as Yuffie left the bar. There was a long, almost unbearable length of nothing, before Vincent gave up on his breakfast, offered them an apologetic look as if that would suffice as an explanation, and then left the bar also.

"They went out rather suddenly," remarked Loz. "Did we say something?"

Yazoo wiped down the counter, hardly paying attention. Last night, Yuffie had said something about him and Tifa…what was it?

Vincent had said something along the lines of a comparison…Vincent and him as monsters, Yuffie and Tifa as…

"--he's always zoning out--"

…That was it! Yuffie was somewhat envious that he and Tifa were getting on so well. But surely she and Vincent cared about each other too…it was more than caring for each other…

"All right kids, let's get you to school."

Yazoo jerked his head round so quickly, he cricked his neck. Cloud was at the door, doing his laces, and the children were pulling on their schoolbags. Tifa was handing them their lunchboxes. How did so much happen without him noticing?

"You were zoned out," Loz answered for him, getting off the barstool. The amusement in his voice was clear, but it was layered with concern as he added, "Whatever it is that's bothering you, get over it quickly, yeah? You're starting to make me think it's more than some nightmare, and I don't like seeing you worried."

"It was just a nightmare, don't worry," Yazoo said a little too quickly. With a sceptical look, Loz pulled on his shoes, and without even being told to do so, Erica did his laces up for him.

"Where are you going?"

Loz's head snapped up quickly. "Taking the kids to school with Cloud, and after that, I'm going to help him with the delivery business. Well, as much as I can with one arm anyway. It'sconvenient because the deliveries are pretty nearby, so we can walk, and…"

He stopped when he noticed Yazoo's perplexed expression. "…I told you yesterday about going with Cloud. You're forgetting a lot of things."

"Mm," Yazoo agreed vaguely. He accidentally locked gazes with Cloud, and it was clear, even with the distance, that the blonde was not happy to go about his business with a clone and furthermore, leave Tifa behind with the other.

The children, Cloud and Loz left at 8:00 exactly, and the bar turned quiet within moments. Yazoo had attempted to say a friendly goodbye to Cloud, but it came out as a muffled, "Have a…day…" so feeling rather disappointed and foolish, he resumed his place at the counter with Tifa.

"Right, now that everyone else is all sorted and busy, we might as well get our breakfast." She opened the fridge, ducking down to search it. "Let's see. Is there anything in particular you want to eat? Or cook?"

Yazoo rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, but there in his stomach, the rippling, pleasurable sensation had come back, and he broke into a very short laugh. He took two eggs out from the fridge.

"I can successfully make boiled eggs," he said. Tifa straightened, eyes curious. Yazoo liked it when she looked that way, displaying interest and fascination. "Kadaj loved eggs for breakfast, particularly boiled ones. Loz and I always joked that his face would turn yellow from the amount he ate."

He gave a hollow laugh, and added lowly, "Though, it's not really that funny anymore."

He started on the eggs, painfully remembering how Kadaj would wait impatiently for his brothers to make his breakfast, and although Loz was by far the better cook, Yazoo had opted to make Kadaj his favourite breakfasts on the occasions when for some reason or another, Loz was out.

He got his and Tifa's breakfast ready with no major havoc, where the only minor mess he did cause was when he picked up a boiled egg that was slightly too hot for him. Unwilling to drop it, he had muttered a quick curse under his breath and done a very strange stumble (stepping on his own foot in the process) in order to deal with the heat.

Tifa chose to have breakfast at a table rather than on a barstool at the counter. Yazoo sat opposite, seeing it was only polite to join her. Being rather long-legged, it was inevitable for him to sit too comfortably at such a small table; his knees knocked against hers and he shuffled in his seat.

At last, sat with one leg outstretched outside of the table, he spread jam on the toast Tifa had made for him, whilst she began to take the shell off her egg. For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of the egg being broken and the crunching of toast, but once again, Tifa had initiated a conversation for him.

"Tomorrow's the day I do the laundry, did you still want to help?"

"Sure."

Another long period of silence washed over the bar. Yazoo could easily break it if he told her about Yuffie and Vincent last night, but perhaps, seeing as she was their friend, she already knew about their disagreement.

He hadn't thought that loving someone could be upsetting or confusing, but he was clearly proved wrong. The lifeless face Yuffie and melancholy one of Vincent's were all he had to see.

"Yuffie and Vincent…" he started.

"Mm, an argument I guess," said Tifa. Her pensive gaze swept over the bar before continuing. "…They've…well, they've had their eye on each other for a long time…"

She turned hesitant, reluctant to continue, but that feeling died away no sooner than it had appeared.

"It's confusing for them, I suppose. They have a lot of things to consider, and that isn't ever simple."

Yazoo watched her spread jam, eyes fixed on the fingers that held the knife and toast steadily. He was enthralled to see such inattentive, unintentional care being put into such a small thing.

"She likes you. Yuffie. She sees the similarities you and Vincent have, and that immediately makes you a friend of hers."

_If you're a monster, what does that make Yazoo?_

He stared into his plate. His similarities to Vincent?

_He's a Sephiroth clone, isn't he? He's worse than a monster._

He was still staring. He had to stop it. Looking up at last, he met the searching brown gaze that was Tifa's. Even if it looked completely random, he had to ask her, while it was fresh in his mind…

"Why?" he blurted out.

"P-pardon?"

"I'm a copy of Sephiroth." He dropped his toast, and it clattered onto the plate the wrong way up. "Why do you act as if it doesn't matter?"

She was remotely stunned; her eyes were holding a level gaze, but they had flickered ever so slightly. Did she feel she was being reprimanded for her compassion? Yazoo immediately regretted what he had said, how it had sounded.

But, unexpectedly, shattering the stony, chilling air, a smile broke onto her face. He waited for her answer – he _had_ to know!

"Does it matter? That you're a clone?" she said simply. She took a sip of her water. "I'll tell you one thing. I knew Sephiroth."

Breakfast didn't seem to look as appetising; the toast lay discarded on his plate. He hadn't even touched his glass of water.

"You're nothing like him," said Tifa. She finished off the toast with an admirable air of finality. He swallowed. He was getting hopeful: if he was nothing like Sephiroth then…then all his actions were _his_…even as a copy of someone far greater than him…he was still _Yazoo_…

Tifa's hand shot out. Yazoo only had time to widen his eyes when as quick as a flash, she had snatched hold of his toast, sticking it in his mouth at such an angle, that jam had been pasted across the top of his upper lip like a moustache, or even worse, lipstick. Hastily, well aware that he was reddening, he took out the toast and grabbed his napkin. He hid the lower part of his face, wiping at it.

"How do you feel?" Tifa smiled. She drummed a hand on the table, watching.

"Stupid," he responded. Her smile grew wider.

"Sephiroth would've killed me on the spot if I did something like that. Before I'dhave the chance to, even. He wouldn't admit to feeling stupid."

Her hand moved again, but this time, it rested on his arm, showing comfort with gentle strokes. It was astonishing how reassuring a simple pat could be, how simple it was to convey a message with it, quickly soothing away any worries or anxiety he had.

"You're only a Sephiroth clone if you want to be one."

* * *

**A/N:** Mm…I'm not really too sure what to make of this chapter, but yeah, Yazoo is a clone in this fic, because it makes sense if he was. (-Ignores people shouting "Remnant! Remnant!"-) Next chapter, I hope to bring in a bit more Loz, I actually enjoy writing him now (didn't before…). 

So, with all that useless natter claiming to be author's notes, please be kind and take the time to review! Since this is where the actual YazooTifa-ness is kicking off (and I've never written romance before), your opinions really, **really **matter!


	13. Jealousy

**A/N:** Haha! Yes, jealousy in this chapter! It's an emotion in this fic I haven't written yet. We've got a very slight hint of sibling rivalry –grin-, though that's not all that makes up this chapter. Yuffie's got a major part here. Oh, and another note – this chapter does skip time quite a bit, moving from morning to midday to the afternoon. Hopefully it isn't too sudden, and is understandable. Having to write every single detail of a whole day will bore you as well as me. So that's why at the beginning of the chapter it's morning, and by the end, it's the afternoon.

Thanks for all the reviews, people! We're steadily approaching 300 – I'm so excited! Also, many thanks go to anonymous/not logged in reviewers Sol, Aviad, MiRoKiKi and Lucian's Angel87 for writing a review!

Now, we'll move swiftly on (as my English teacher used to say –shudder- don't ask me why I'm quoting him) to Chapter 13: Jealousy!

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 13: Jealousy**

It was only 7:30, but already, Yazoo had made a fool of himself. Or more precisely, Loz had taken the liberty of telling everyone one of Yazoo's cooking episodes (the one that involved disgustingly sugary soup and Kadaj nearly shutting his nose in the oven).

Yazoo couldn't believe it. How could Loz be so insensitive, blabbering on and on about his faults in the kitchen as a way of making conversation? Couldn't his brother tell he was embarrassed?

He finally halted his concentration on his breakfast, and looked up. Everyone was smiling and laughing, and in the middle of it, was Loz. Even Cloud had a suggestion of a smile on his face.

Loz had quite effortlessly broken the ice between him and Cloud. Cloud had actually been won over. Now that he was smiling, he didn't really look that intimidating at all. Just another man in 7th Heaven.

Yazoo stirred his breakfast tea in thought. He had in actuality considered asking to join Cloud on his delivery service, but it was an idea that was scrapped almost immediately after it was created. Cloud would have said no, Yazoo would be of no use, no one would benefit at all. But if Loz went…well, Cloud's smile was enough to explain the outcome of that.

There were very little occasions whereby Yazoo felt that emotion of humiliation and embarrassment. He didn't care, it was quite simply that. Strangers' opinions were of no matter. It had been a while since he had felt publicly humiliated. And it was no wonder why Loz wasn't picking up on it, if Yazoo never really showed he had the personality to be humiliated in the first place.

It had hit him like a rock. A particularly sharp, heavy one too, Yazoo decided. It _did _matter that silly things were being said about him. His image couldn't afford to be damaged.

What would she think of him?

His foot was being nudged by something under the table. Great. So now he was in the way. It was one of the worst mornings ever.

His eyes moved up automatically to stare at Tifa's. She was sat opposite him, clutching her mug of tea in the exact same way he did. And with her simple smile, Yazoo found his grumpy self and annoyance with Loz was gone. He smiled back. This was no bad morning at all.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

He blinked. He and Loz had spent most of the night grumbling to each other because the moonlight was pouring through their temporarily curtainless window and they couldn't sleep.

"I guess," he chose to reply. He took another bite of his toast, and in doing so, he noticed three pairs of eyesstaring at him. Owen, Erica and Marlene were giggling. At _him_. Yazoo didn't know what was so funny about him eating breakfast. Then, Owen pulled a strange face, puckering his lips. Yazoo settled on Owen's face being a result of him choking on his toast.

The children had been acting strange all morning. He recalled a kid named Arthur had approached him and quite randomly informed him, "Tifa's favourite colour's purple."

He went back to his own eating, once again lost in his own world. When the children left 7th Heaven to go to school with Cloud and Vincent, Owen had turned round and pulled the same face.

Once the group of children were out of sight, Yuffie closed the door and for reasons unknown, grinned smugly at him, which in itself was okay, but what annoyed Yazoo was that Loz was mirroring Yuffie's grin.

"Well, we'll leave you guys to it then," said Loz. Yazoo caught Yuffie's eyes by accident, and nearly stumbled backwards into the wall when she winked at him. "Yuffie and I'll get the curtains up in the living room."

"Thank you, though Loz," Tifa called after him, "don't overexert yourself."

Loz waved his good arm and disappeared into the living room. Yazoo studied his sleeves, thinking. Yuffie was certainly in a much better mood. She must have made up with Vincent. He hoped so – Yazoo wasn't fond of seeing Yuffie upset, and even if she had offended him, there had to be a good reason for it.

With a slight bounce in his step, he followed after Tifa to do the laundry. He loaded in the clothes with her, cramming them into the waiting washing machine. He even passed her the washing powder (an action he was proud of). For a few minutes they stood in silence, watching the multicoloured whirring of clothes, before Tifa said, "There's a second load of clothes upstairs for ironing."

They headed up the stairs. Yazoo found it quite odd how Loz and Yuffie – perhaps the loudest people in the house – were having a subdued chat. He could barely hear them. As it were, the ironing was always done in Tifa's room. The last time (and only time at that) Yazoo had been into Tifa's room was when he was invited to play cards with Denzel. The room hadn't changed much since then, with the exception of a sky blue cushion perched on the bed and a Cactuer plushie that sat on the windowsill contentedly.

Tifa's desk had various slips of paper scattered around. Some read "Strife Delivery Service", but the majority were letters and pictures from the children. Pens fanned out from a mosaic-like pot, and as Yazoo leaned over to examine them, he noticed that some had their lids missing and a handful had no ink at all.

He craned his head to look at the room a second time. It was astonishingly cluttered. Yazoo swore it hadn't been so untidy before. Her dressing table had no order to the miscellaneous bottles and accessories, and one of her drawers was half open. The room certainly reflected how little time its owner had for herself.

As soon as he had set up the ironing board, Yazoo tossed a shirt onto it, ready to iron. Tifa herself had got onto her knees at her wardrobe to take out the iron from one of the bottom shelves. She turned round, getting up, and one hand hastily closed the half open drawer.

Their joint effort paid off: Tifa folded the clothes once Yazoo had ironed them. It was all done within an hour, and after vacuum cleaning the house, they went outside to hang the initial lot of clothes to dry. Tifa explained to him during this that in Edge, the clothes dried from the chilly wind rather than from whatever sunlight there was. Yazoo then asked her why she was so content to live in such a dismal place.

"That's exactly why I want to live here," she had replied plainly. "I want to do what I can to make it _not_ dismal for some children at least."

The respect Yazoo had for her doubled when he heard that. Had she always been so self-sacrificing? It was such a stark contrast to him and his brothers – Kadaj's motto had been to only care about themselves, quite simply because no one else would.

Throughout lunch, determinedly ignoring Loz and Yuffie's eyes trying to make contact with his, Yazoo pondered about whether there was anything _he_ could do that would make things 'not dismal' for Tifa. Housework didn't seem to be enough. Not enough to repay the debt he owed her for bringing him to a home that night, trusting him, giving him confidence…

It was her birthday soon, after all. He felt compelled to do something. It was rather surprising how little he knew about her.

"So…" Yazoo struck up a chat with her. Loz and Yuffie were immersed in their own conversation. "Do you…do you have a favourite food of some sort?"

She replied promptly, "Neapolitan Pavlova Ice."

Yazoo had forgotten the first word already, and that thought did nothing but dishearten him. He needed help if he wanted to make Tifa's birthday special.

* * *

A rare stroke of luck hit him when Tifa left in the afternoon to pick the children up from school. Instead of approaching Yuffie tentatively and mumbling for her help, she had come up to _him _(Yazoo had no idea why). He was dragged into the living room and pushed into the armchair. She shut the door with a careless foot and leaned against it. 

He waited. What did Yuffie want with him? Why was she standing there awkwardly, chewing her lip and taking steady breaths?

"Listen," she finally said with placidity Yazoo didn't know she could adopt, "forget everything I said that night."

He couldn't quite comprehend to her statement. Yuffie knew he had listened in on her? He was about to ask, but his silence had prolonged a tad too much. Yuffie lost her placid self in an instant.

"Well don't just sit there gawping at me!" she said hotly. "You're supposed to accept my apology and then apologise yourself for actually taking it all so seriously!"

She slumped into the armchair opposite him, hands pushing back her fringe. "I knew you had heard everything I said because you were acting so weird…you weren't looking at me…Loz also said something about you having a nightmare."

"Yuffie, I…" Yazoo started. He realised he didn't know what else to say. He could only let her continue, watching as she talked to her knees.

"I was jealous, to be honest. You and Tifa have everything all perfect, and here's me, struggling to persuade an old man to give his miserable existence a sprig of happiness." She looked up to meet his eyes at last. "I slagged you off when you were listening, right in front of Vinnie as well…Gawd, I've really screwed up, haven't I? I was just so jealous of you two…I wanted to know why it couldn't be like that for me too…"

She gave an empty laugh. "Ah well, I hope you'll forgive me for everything I said. It was harsh…" She finished with a mumble of, "…Sorry."

It was certainly out of the blue for Yuffie to apologise, but he was grateful for it. He didn't like not being on good terms with her. He was silent for a few more seconds, contemplating Yuffie's words. She had acted out of jealousy…that still didn't quite make sense…

"Yuffie, what exactly is it that you're jealous of?"

She had leapt onto her feet within split seconds, dashing in front of him and shaking his shoulders mercilessly. "Yazoo you did _not_ just ask me that!"

His head was spinning; he was still being shaken. Yuffie was a blur of peach and black in front of him. Her serious air had morphed into an attitude similar to that of a parent scolding her child.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? You and Tifa have the hots for each other! I can see Tifa's obsessed with you, Loz can see you're obsessed with her! Even the kids--"

"O-obsessed? I only--"

"--know about it all, well…I kinda helped them, so did Loz. They're starting to wonder when 'Ms. Lockhart' will become 'Mrs. Yazoo', if there'll be the new addition of children in this household--"

"But for children, we'd have to…" He felt his cheeks reddening.

Yuffie rolled her eyes. Her hands let go of his shoulders at long last. "Yazoo, stop being such a prude, you're even worse than Vinnie."

"--a-and Mrs. _What_?"

"Yazoo," Yuffie answered effortlessly. "Mrs. Yazoo. That was Loz's suggestion."

Yazoo was glad he was sitting down, or else his knees would've given way. He alsomade a mental note to thump his brother for that suggestion. He rubbed his temples. His head felt as though it had been hit by the particularly heavy hardback atlas that was on the coffee table. He couldn't possibly be in love with Tifa…all he wanted was for her to be happy, for them to spend a bit of time together…that was all…

It cleared up a lot of his own mysteries though, he had to admit to himself. It explained why his appearance suddenly mattered more than ever, why he was eager to know her opinion, keen to spend the day with her, determined to not make an idiot out of himself, pleasurable sensations that ran through his fingers every time their hands touched doing the washing up…

There was the sound of keys jangling. Tifa, Loz and the children were back. Yuffie gave him a grin, but it was somewhat gloomy. "Hey, Yazoo. At least you've got someone who loves you back."

* * *

**A/N:** There we go, Yuffie's been useful and helped Yazoo out. I was originally going to have Loz, but I think it worked better with Yuffie. I guess Yazoo's a bit clueless about love and relationships, that's why he's a bit slow in the head in this chapter. So Yazoo never got the help he was originally intended to ask for, but that's all for next update! Well, whatever the case, this is the chapter's end – perhaps you could review? It'd be great to hear your opinion! Stay tuned people – the real YazooTifa is in the next chapter! 


	14. Kiss

**A/N:** I wonder what happens in this chapter – go on, guess. Enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 14: Kiss**

When picking up the toothpaste on the morning of May 3rd, Yazoo realised his fingers were shaking. He was by himself in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and at the same time, staring down at his birthday present to Tifa. It lay on the side of the sink – whether it was going to stay there or accompany Yazoo downstairs in his pocket, he had yet to decide upon. Brushing his teeth before even eating was a mark of how nervous he was.

Yuffie's words earlier that week and his unpredictable behaviour indicated that he was in love with Tifa. In _love_. He was confused when he had landed in 7th Heaven in the first place, but this confusion was far more extreme. It was completely and utterly absurd. There was so much that was rooting for him to fail…Cloud would do his nut, Yuffie would get jealous all over again, Tifa would tire of him, Loz would either envy him or laugh relentlessly…what was he supposed to do?

Yazoo had wrapped the present with cling film he found in the kitchen. He had searched high and low that night, trying to find something suitable, like a plastic bag, but the best he could find was the cling film. Now the present looked like a particularly ugly sandwich.

He rinsed his mouth, and pushed back his fringe as he checked his reflection. The bangs fell back into his eyes rebelliously. A few more minutes of thought passed. Then, he grabbed the present, stuffed it into his pocket and headed for the stairs – he was without a doubt going to make a fool of himself again, but he'd rather do it than leaving that task to Loz or Yuffie.

His brother was waiting for him, the elbow of his good arm leaning on the banister. Loz's hair was still wet, and though the majority of it was swept back neatly, several stray tresses had slumped over his forehead. He was dressed far too casually with the hairstyle, jeans and shirt.

"You look quite ill," commented Loz. Yazoo disregarded this potential insult (since he wasn't ill at all), and did up his brother's buttons automatically. There was a significant pause prior to Loz's comment of, "It's Tifa's birthday today."

It was an unnecessary point to make, seeing as Yazoo hadn't thought of much else but Tifa's birthday for the whole week. He still couldn't quite believe that such extensive thinking had only produced the puny present that now sat in his pocket.

"Yuffie and I have been working really hard to make it a great day for you two."

Yazoo concentrated on the shirt. "Which two?"

"You and Tifa," hissed Loz (although it was relatively loud). "Come on, Yazoo – you don't think you can fool me can you? Of all people?"

There were only three more buttons to go. Soon, this embarrassing conversation would be over.

"Move your arm forward, I can't reach," he said. Loz complied; the fingers that weren't broken twitched a little.

"You know," the older brother said, "Yuffie's been talking to me about Vincent – I feel a bit sorry for her. I think I could talk to Vincent, maybe persuade him to be more relaxed." He tapped his chin with his good hand, just as Yazoo finished the buttons. "You know, with all this stuff between you and Tifa, and Yuffie and Vincent, I feel like some gypsy matchmaker."

"Don't say that," Yazoo replied amusedly, "you just gave me a horrible mental image."

They shared a light chuckle, but Yazoo stopped seconds in when he heard Erica call up the stairs, "Loz! Are you awake yet? I got you breakfast!"

Yazoo felt rather wounded, watching wordlessly as Loz was down the stairs without even looking behind him. Yazoo supposed that Loz was constantly busy with that much popularity. Loz had been out delivering with Cloud three times now. Yazoo wondered what exactly his brother did when his arm was broken, but he could never bring himself to ask.

He had stood on the landing long enough. Repressing envious thoughts of Loz (as well as him in gypsy clothes) and nerves from Tifa's present, he entered the bar. It was already bustling; he was the last one in. Welcomed by the cool blast from the ceiling fan, he went virtually unnoticed. It was only Vincent who nodded his head in greeting. Yuffie was busy eating her breakfast, Loz and Cloud were immersed in a conversation with the children, and Tifa was on the cordless phone.

Yazoo was watching from a distance. He expected he was taking after Vincent, sat away from the centre, viewing everything from the outside in silence. He found he was quite appreciative of it.

His gaze switched from left to right, fixed on Tifa pacing up and down behind the bar. It was fascinating to watch her. Was it normal to smile and shake your head on the phone? Why did she walk around? Tilt her head at an angle so that she seemed to look at the ceiling?

The long cascade of black hair shivered a little every time she took a step. It was always so tidy; even when she was down on her knees, scouring the cupboards or pulling clothes out the washing machine, her hair – indeed, every part of her – remained spotless and neat. He propped up his chin with a fist. Tifa was calling Marlene over, saying that her dad was on the phone.

Marlene was eager to talk to him – she had the phone in seconds, clutching it with both hands as if it was something very dear to her. She was pacing around too. Yuffie had finished breakfast, and was dragging Loz and Tifa to the very table Yazoo sat at. In fact, everyone bar Marlene was coming over to him. He quickly snapped out of his daydream.

"Right, since Yazoo's already taken a seat, we might as well sit here!" Yuffie declared pompously. She dumped on the table a colourfully wrapped present. Tifa's already open presents had been put down as well; Yazoo had no idea what they were, but they smelt very strong. Tifa offered a smile in greeting.

"You'll like my present, Teef, it's far more useful than some aromatherapy kit and eye pillow." Yuffie arched an eyebrow in Cloud's direction. "Or candles, come to that."

Here, she gave Vincent the same look, albeit somewhat softer.

"I thought girls liked smellies," Cloud replied in defence. Yazoo wondered what 'smellies' were, and hoped someone would explain it to him, but no such thing prevailed when Yuffie wagged a finger at the blonde.

"Girls aren't just smellies you know, we need more _necessary_ things. You guys just go in the shops and buy whatever's closest to you that's girly. You better not do that on _my_ birthday or else I'll be really…"

"Er, Yuffie." Tifa interrupted her, peering past Loz. "What is this?"

"What do you mean, what is it? It's written on the packaging." Yuffie paused. "Oh, I took off the packaging didn't I? See, I really wanted to try it out myself before I gave it to you, but don't worry, I didn't quite succumb to my inner demons."

She took the present out of Tifa's hands. It was white and fluffy.

"That still doesn't answer Tifa's question of what you got her," said Loz. Yuffie thrust the white, fluffy bundle into the air.

"It's a hair turban, Tifa!" she exclaimed. "It dries your hair in half the time of a usual towel! And it's perfect for someone who's got long hair!"

She took several strands of Tifa's hair, letting them slip through her fingers admiringly. Yazoo surveyed this action as discreetly as possible, wondering pensively if her hair felt any different to his. Yazoo heard Marlene say into the phone, "And Tifa's just got a hair turban from Yuffie."

"That hair turban looks like the top of an ice cream to me," remarked Cloud. "I'm glad I won't be wearing it."

Yuffie's glare seemed to have no effect on him; she gave the blonde a hearty punch on the shoulder. "Do you want me to comment on what your hair looks like?"

"I don't have any present for you I'm afraid, Tifa." Loz spoke up next; he had opted to leave Yuffie and Cloud to argue. "But I promise you that once this arm's better, I'll cook you up a meal."

"I'll hold you to that," Tifa responded matter-of-factly. She sat down diagonal to Yazoo, studying her birthday gifts. Yazoo wetted his lips nervously. There was no way his present could match the hair turban, 'smellies' and eye pillow. It was heavy in his pocket; he longed to get rid of it.

"I think Yazoo has a gift for you as well, Tifa." Vincent spoke quietly, but it successfully halted all conversation. Marlene had even stopped her telephone call. Yazoo wanted to run out the door that was left open temptingly.

"Y-you do?" said Tifa. Yazoo nodded. There was no backing out from it now – after all, he had inconvenienced Vincent to get it for him, searching through the cupboard in the living room to recover what had originally been taken away from him. Vincent was too kind help him, but couldn't he tell? Couldn't he tell that lined up with everything else Tifa had received, giving her the final cartridges to his gun was meaningless?

The silence didn't go away when Yazoo took the cling filmed cartridges out from his pocket, placing them on the table. They all stared, with the exception of Vincent. Yazoo was glad all eyes were off him. Then, simultaneously, their attention was back on him. Tifa eyed him curiously; Cloud's stern gaze could only suggest that he was under the impression that Yazoo was going to shoot everyone with the cartridges. Yazoo decided an explanation would be good.

"Velvet Nightmare's custom made, so it's not worth much, but the base of it…I mean, the cartridges…they can be used for many other guns. They're quite expensive, so I thought…" He ran his tongue over his lips "…I thought that maybe you could sell them and use the money to…to buy something else," he finished lamely.

It was a stupid idea, and it sounded worse now that he had said it out loud. Loz's eyes were wide, and he appeared to be wanting to say something, but nothing came out. Yazoo forced himself to meet Tifa's eyes. She had the look of someone who had seen a stray dog. Pity. Did she feel sorry for him?

"Oh, Yazoo…" she started. "You didn't have to go that far to get me a present…"

She was blushing. Yazoo presumed she was as uncomfortable as he was. Yuffie was looking wildly at Loz, and out the corner of his eye, Yazoo thought he saw his brother mouth, 'You do it'.

"Well, that's that settled then." Yuffie rapped her knuckles on the table. The action surprised Tifa somewhat. "We planned for a lunch outside, a nice picnic near Aeris' church – you can leave it to me and Loz, Tifa, you don't have to cook today! Cloud's in charge of babysitting, Vinnie's doing wallpapering with the kids."

"That's very nice of you Yuffie, but…" Tifa gave a nervous laugh. Yazoo realised she was clutching the gun cartridges. "…What do I do until lunch?"

"Whatever you want," chipped in Loz. Yazoo wasn't liking the sly grin on his face. "It's your birthday, you deserve to have the day free. Say Yuffie, I don't think you gave Yazoo a job."

The pretend surprise in Loz's exclamation was so obvious to Yazoo, but astonishingly, Tifa had fallen for it. Her face seemed to glow when she said to him, "Well, why don't you accompany me to the city centre? I might as well sell these cartridges and do a bit of shopping."

"That's a great idea!" Yuffie answered for him, banging her hands on the table. She had successfully drowned out Cloud's mutter of, "Is that sensible?" and with more enthusiasm, nudged Loz's ribs. "I thought that Yazoo could help us with the picnic, but going shopping's a much better idea."

"Particularly since we're aiming for a picnic rather than a cataclysmic mess," Loz responded. Yazoo stopped eyeing Tifa's hands and glared up at his brother.

"Stop with the cooking jokes – you use them too many times for them to be funny anymore," he snapped. Playing along with Yuffie's not-so-spontaneous proposal like that, why was Loz so annoying these days?

* * *

Yazoo left 7th Heaven and the sniggering pair that was Loz and Yuffie as soon as possible. Tifa was intent on walking at the same pace he did, chatting animatedly about a department store in Edge they could visit, and this was what they did once the cartridges had been sold in a local weapons store.

The department store was filled with the noise and crowds of people Yazoo expected. Lifelike mannequins stood in proud poses, showing off the latest skirts and tops, or for the more ugly ones, the most fashionable hosiery – several pairs of legs from the knee down had been placed on the stands. Yazoo personally thought it was rather revolting, and gratefully followed Tifa to the next floor. It was selling household items, Yazoo assumed on seeing shelves of kettles, toasters and draining racks.

They weaved through aisles, and as Tifa didn't appear to be examining anything on sale, he suspected she was looking for a certain something. Moments later, she had stopped at a low shelf.

"They always have such nice photo frames here," she remarked, picking up one that was themed black and yellow. An figure of a bee had been spiked onto a springy stick of metal and wobbled next to the photo frame.

"Rather unfortunate for the bee," Yazoo stated. Tifa nodded in agreement, and in the end, selected a cactuer-themed frame. He waited outside of the queue when she went to pay. He felt considerably lightened seeing her use the money from the cartridges, watching as her hair swayed rhythmically with the pearly earrings as she joined him. There was something Yazoo liked about that long cascade of dark hair.

"Now I just need a photo," she smiled. Yazoo was quick to disregard this comment, since there was bound to be plenty of photos back home. Then, he realised he and Tifa were walking straight towards a photo booth. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Are you camera shy?"

"…Not exactly," Yazoo replied. The photo booth was _tiny_! Him and Tifa in that? "I…I don't think there'd be room for--"

"I managed to fit in with Yuffie _and_ another person once," Tifa cut in reassuringly.

He had no choice but to go in, as Tifa slotted in the money. She squeezed in next to him, and they both laughed nervously as they staggered to find a suitable standing position. It was oddly comfortable, being so close against her. He moved his shoulder so that he was partly behind her. If he moved his nose forward just a few more inches, he could smell her hair…_just_ a few more inches…

A red light, and then a flash. Tifa turned to give him a smile. She had to tilt her head upwards; Yazoo observed that he was only several inches taller than her.

"It's all right, you're not posing for a mug shot or anything."

"I don't think I can…_pose _altogether," he muttered. He was aware that he was still stood rigid. "I can't smile freely…"

He couldn't stop eyeing her either, now that he was so close to her…closer than ever…he tore his eyes away from her and at the red light. He could force a smile if he had to – these photos were for Tifa after all.

"How many photos do we have to have?" he questioned, hoping he didn't sound rude.

"Four."

"Four?" he repeated.

"You can give one to Loz if you want."

Yazoo snorted. How charming. He was glad that taking photos didn't record sound. The flash went off a second time.

It was all too irresistible. He recalled Yuffie saying something about not succumbing to her inner demons. Yazoo had to hand it to her for being resilient, for, before he knew it, he had let his nose nestle into the folds of Tifa's hair. It smelled sweet. He waited for her to recoil from him, but it never came. In fact, Yazoo swore she sunk more into him, pressing the weight of her back against his chest.

"What smell?" he asked her. She looked up to meet his eyes. The feelings of her hair brushing his nose were gone. He could feel her breath instead.

"It's honey. From the shampoo I use."

"It's nice."

Yazoo couldn't believe how lame he sounded, but there wasn't much else he could say. However, Tifa was laughing nervously.

"Thank you…though, to be honest with you, I just grab whatever's on the shelf. I could be using Cloud's shampoo for all I know. You're lucky it's honey today."

He grinned at her, just as the third flash went off. He didn't doubt that men's shampoo would tarnish Tifa at all.

There was an unfamiliar sensation of the lower strands of his hair being swayed by something. Tifa's hand. Her back was still against him. Her eyes were so close, _she_ was so close altogether…he could go a bit closer…

He didn't quite know how it had happened. He wasn't sure if it was him who had moved first, or if it was Tifa. Either way, it had resulted in a quick, tentative kiss. Her eyes were shut, lips pressed almost urgently on his. Should he close his eyes as well, or was it okay to keep them open? Did he just have to keep his lips against hers? Was there more to it?

The final flash went, and it brought them back to reality. Tifa broke away first, jumpily. It could have been the flash's fault, but it could have equally been Yazoo's bad tactics in kissing.

"I uh…haven't had that much practice," he admitted when they stepped out the booth. He hadn't had _any_ practice so to speak, but he was only admitting so much.

"It's okay," Tifa waved a hand. "I…I haven't either." She pointed to a plastic covered slot and changing the subject, she said, "We have to wait a while for the photos."

Yazoo leaned against the booth, raking his hair. "Oh…okay then."

The silences with Tifa he had experienced before were awkward, and it usually made him think frantically of ways to break it. But as he stood side by side with her waiting as the booth whirred to life and processed their photos, he couldn't feel more at ease in the quiet. Once or twice, they'd give each other marginally nervous smiles, and then study their surroundings of a bustling store.

When the booth fell silent, Tifa darted forward and took the strip of photos eagerly. She cringed, and passed them to him.

"I'm not looking at the camera in any of them," she said.

The first shot was rather untidy, with Tifa looking away and Yazoo seemingly peering out of the booth. The second had grasped a small amount of structure, as they looking at each other, mouths open in conversation. In the third, they were both grinning. Yazoo personally thought that one was best, since the fourth shot had captured their kiss, with the top half of his head cut off. Wonderful.

With an unspoken agreement to not discuss what Yazoo now labelled 'The Photo Booth Incident', they browsed the shops. On the ground floor, Tifa led him to the menswear. Yazoo was interested in the shirts they had there, wondering whether Tifa preferred striped shirts to checked shirts. He looked down at the light blue shirt he currently wore.

"Anything you like?"

Her fingers grazed his elbow; he quickly put a shirt back.

"…Nothing in particular. How about you?" He winced. Wow, what a smart question. This was the _men's_ department. "I guess not."

"Actually, I was rather hoping you'd try this on." Tifa held up a long, cerulean-coloured tie that swung off a plastic hook. Yazoo nearly laughed. Him? In a tie? He didn't even know how to wear one!

Tifa took the tie off from its hook, and fed it round his neck. He could smell the honey again. Her fingers worked knowingly, doing up the tie round his neck. It was awkward; it felt like a dog collar. She took him to the mirror.

He only half-noticed how foolish he looked in such formal wear; the other half was momentarily stunned to see in the full length mirror, him and her. One of his hands lightly at her shoulder, one of hers at his collarbone.

They looked so good together. Wait, he didn't just think that. These irrational impulses of his!

He was still fuming with himself as they left the department store. They had not bought the tie thankfully – Yazoo thought it made him look ten years older than he actually was.

The next stop was a small café, blissfully not crowded. Yazoo was glad to be in a quiet environment. The corner of the store sold ice cream; he remembered that Tifa had said something about 'ice' being her favourite food. What were the words again? There were three…

He studied the tubs, racking his brains in thought. The last word was definitely ice. What were the other two?

Something cold was thrust into his hand. Tifa had gone ahead and bought him ice cream without noticing? It read _Mint Chocolate Chip_. Tifa's read _Neapolitan Pavlova_. He mentally slapped his forehead. That was it!

"I thought that you might be hungry since you haven't had breakfast," she smiled.

They sat outside of the café at a wooden table. The occasional car drove past, as well as businessmen late for work or teenagers eager to get away from their parents.

He watched her eat for a few seconds. She took small scoops, some chocolate, others vanilla. The Photo Booth Incident seemed forgotten, which gave Yazoo some time to think as he indulged himself to his ice cream. He wanted to try it again – would Tifa mind if he did? This time…this time he wouldn't get embarrassed, or at a loss…this time he'd get it right…

She finished her ice cream only moments after he did. He pushed the tubs aside, leaned forwards in his chair. The dark hair was softer than ever against his fingers, he could count her eyelashes if he wanted to…but his eyes fluttered shut instinctively…

Her lips were cool from the ice cream; he tilted his head at an angle. That made things so much easier. There was a trace of strawberry on one corner of her mouth; he kissed at it eagerly, sharing the taste of the ice cream and her. Fingertips swept his hair aside, touching his jaw line as she eased his mouth open, and then trailed down to tease his collarbone.

It was much fuller and much deeper than before, with no signs of remorse or foolishness from either of them. The smell of honey lingered around him; he drew her closer – as close as the wooden table would let them – fingers losing their way through the hair he'd only been able to look at, the mouth he had only been able to listen to.

There were odd hints of vanilla in his mouth now, soft in their presence but deliciously so. He decided his favourite food was ice cream. Any flavour would do.

* * *

**A/N:** Ice cream must be one of the most seductive foods around. Well, this was unbelievably difficult to write, I tell you, especially with Yazoo hemming and hawing all the time. Still, he got his act together by the end!

This chapter's for the ever patient reviewers and readers who've stuck since the beginning to wait for YazooTifa – I'm sorry you had to wait so long! There's a whole load more to come, don't worry! Of course, everything won't be plain sailing for our new couple, there's a few problems (read: Cloud) to straighten out still. Oh yeah, the cactuer seems to be a little mascot in this fic, don't ask me why.

Thanks to anonymous/not logged in reviewers Sol, lalla and Aviada for reviewing! I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter, long as it was to get through it :) – it'd be so great if you could please review it! Thanks for reading.


	15. Agreement

**A/N:** Hello, I'm back! Here's chapter 15 for you all! In this chapter you get to find out what Cloud's problem is. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter - it was great to hear your opinions on it, I really loved to hear from you! Of course, anonymous reviewers ought to be thanked too, sothank you now to Aviada, MiRoKiKi and Pandora Lockhart for reviewing!

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 15: Agreement**

It felt like hours and hours had passed since they had sat down: what was left of their ice cream was warm and sloshy, the small tubs stacked on top of each other and moved aside, forgotten. In actuality, it had only been _one_ hour, but it was apparent that they had spent too much time at the café, for the owner was making shooing gestures from the shop window, anxious to get rid of them.

Yazoo wondered what the man's problem was. There were no other customers, and he and Tifa had merely been conversing with each other under the parasol. Nevertheless, he got up to leave, wincing as his wooden seat scraped across the concrete with a sharp sound. Tifa picked up her bag, slung it over her right shoulder and slipped her hand into his.

Yazoo had only ever held hands with two people, namely Kadaj and Loz. Kadaj would always drag him downwards and forwards when he pulled him along; Loz, when he was very little, would often cling onto Yazoo's hand with a strong grip – it was hard to pry his sticky fingers offhim, Yazoo remembered.

Holding hands with Tifa was far different. Reassuring was the first word that cropped up in Yazoo's mind, but it was a lot more than that. He couldn't quite phrase it. All he knew was that as he strolled alongside her, walking their way to the church in no hurry, he liked having her thumb brush against the side of his, feeling her fingers between his as their arms swung in time.

The first thing Yazoo saw on reaching the church was a large blue and white picnic mat that had been spread outside of the church. Lying on it spread-eagled was Yuffie. The children were all playing with each other – judging by the way they seemed to be running away from Denzel, they were playing tag. Yazoo looked around automatically for Loz, but there was no sign of his brother. Perhaps he was in the church.

Yuffie was sitting up, and her movements made Tifa let go of his hand. Quite understandable, Yazoo decided. If Yuffie was to find out about them, she'd tell everyone else readily.

"Tifa! You're twenty minutes early! You could've spent more time with Yazoo! Surely you have better things to do than lay on a picnic mat so it won't blow away!" called Yuffie. Tifa was doing her best to look unabashed; Yazoo pretended to have not heard and studied the stain glass windows of the church. Coming over, Yuffie poked him in the ribs. "Look at me when I'm talking to you." She turned to Tifa almost immediately afterwards. "Had fun? What did you buy with the cartridges?"

Tifa started to retell her morning, and it was a few moments into the conversation that it became quite clear that he wasn't part of it. Of course Yuffie was going to get the details from Tifa – especially with their closeness, and it wasn't as though he was the most articulate of people. Secretly, he hoped Tifa would steer clear of mentioning the Photo Booth Incident and similar events.

He headed absent-mindedly to the church, lost in his thoughts. Yuffie was a difficult person to decipher. The grin and enthusiasm she had could quite simply suggest that she was all for Tifa and him 'getting together'. But Yazoo believed there was something more to it – surely Yuffie wanted to benefit from her hard work? Was there a bet going on or something? Something to do with Vincent, or even Loz? Or was she really that nice to care for him and Tifa?

His footsteps echoed when he entered the church that was Aeris' – a name that Yazoo himself was not familiar with. Aeris, according to Tifa, was someone who Cloud was very fond of, but due to circumstances – which Tifa refrained from getting into further details – she died. Oddly, Loz seemed to recognise the name from somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger on it at all.

The church was just as beautiful by day as it was by night. He noticed the rusty chandelier left on the ground and a similar one hanging above him with very little support. However, Yazoo had no time to marvel at the sun-kissed windows or the rippling water when he realised that Loz was not in the church. Somebody else was though, sat on one of the pews, stripped from his sword.

"Well, I have to hand it to you. Not only have you won over virtually everyone, you've even hooked up with one of us," said Cloud. He arched an eyebrow, one arm swinging to rest on the back of the pew. "That is true, right?"

Yazoo could only assume that he and Tifa had been seen walking to the church together. How else would Cloud know so soon? Unless Loz or Yuffie had tipped him off. He was thinking pointless things – regardless of how Cloud found out, what mattered was that the blonde knew.

He answered Cloud's question with an honest, "I'm not sure." He really wasn't. What _could_ he label himself and Tifa as? Lovers? Hardly. He'd only kissed her twice, he didn't know much about her at all…but they had connected…did that count?

Cloud was, predictably, not amused. His boots crunched leaves under his feet as he got up. The sword remained on the pew, but nevertheless, Yazoo had every right to let some form of fear ensnare him. He stared into the azure eyes with a horrid kind of fascination; had he ever seen such strong eyes?

"I won't interfere with what Tifa thinks is right." Cloud studied his longer glove. With his eyes off him, Yazoo chanced a quick glance around, hoping that just maybe, someone could come in and shatter this ice. The enmity had reached its peak, a frosty, chilling air. "You know exactly what I think of your cleverly planned manipulation of someone who shows a trace of that motherliness you--"

"Manipulation?" Yazoo interjected. What _was_ Cloud talking about? How was loving Tifa manipulation?

He licked his lips. He ought to back down, regardless of these questions he wanted answered. He was at Cloud's mercy, it was _Cloud_ whose opinions and moves had the power here. However, struggling to listen and comply to these sensible points, there was something that urged him to argue back, no matter the consequence.

"It's all very clever," continued Cloud. "See, once Loz's sling is off, there's no need for the pair of you to stay here – you'll both be fully healed, and you can carry on with your way."

Yazoo's knees were threatening to buckle, but with a painful will, he kept up his upright position, slipping his shaking fingers into his pockets. To Cloud though, this probably seemed as though Yazoo was taking an defiant stance.

"Obviously, Tifa will want you to stay now."

Yazoo wasn't surprised to hear Cloud sound so bitter. In a way, the blonde's face expressed disappointment in his friend, as if he had expected more from Tifa. He waited, hiding his true nervous self, however, Cloud seemed to have ran out of words. He sat himself back on the pew, shifting his sword aside with a foot. All of a sudden, he had the image of a little lost boy.

Yazoo frowned. Was Cloud that worked up about him? He was fine with Loz…but then again, Yazoo reminded himself with an awkward twist of his stomach, it wasn't Loz who had irrationally shot Cloud from behind. And it wasn't Loz who had quite successfully taken Tifa away from the blonde.

"I know it's only me," said Yazoo. He opted to take a big social leap and sit on the pew as well. The sword leaned against the dark wood of the bench like a barrier, separating the two from each other. Cloud only gave him a brief, questioning look. "We didn't get off to a good start, with me avoiding you and--" his voice began to fade uncomfortably "--you, uh, doing the same."

Cloud said nothing in response, so Yazoo took that as a sign for him to continue. "I know you care for Tifa, and you should know that I do too. I mean it when I say that," he stressed. "But if we were to be reasonably friendly…that'd be great. Of course, we'd have to…meet halfway…"

He watched a few crispy leaves roll across the wooden floor of the church. Cloud broke the silence, just as Yazoo opened his mouth to attempt to start another conversation.

"I didn't know whether to like you or hate you," the blonde admitted. "When Tifa and Vincent brought you back, that is." He was apparently keen to talk to the hilt of his sword. "Even if I did hate you, I looked for Loz and allowed you to mingle with everyone else. I think I might have felt sorry for you."

Yazoo raked a hand through his hair in thought, but paused when he realised Cloud was doing the exact same action. He let his hand drop to his side, and pretended he hadn't done it. He pondered Cloud's words. The chandelier above him tinkered in the light wind that managed to slip into the church.

He took a moment to relax in Cloud's presence and the cool surroundings, but no sooner as he had started, Cloud stood up.

"I'll meet you halfway," he said matter-of-factly. "But if you hurt Tifa, or make her regret her actions…" The pools of rich azure finally looked his way. "…If you do anything that hurts her, you'll be out of this bar with your limbs accompanying you in one of 7th Heaven's barrels."

Yazoo didn't care about the threat; in fact, he wasn't sure he had even heard it completely. What was more stuck in his mind was that Cloud had agreed for them to start afresh…! An explanation was all it took!

He walked out the church, realising that Cloud had already left. He was certainly quick in making exits, Yazoo decided, though it could have quite simply been himself zoning out as usual.

"Wow, I never thought you'd be the one to crack the ice between you and Cloud." Yuffie spoke from Yazoo's left, leaning against the dusty wall with one foot tracing circles in the ground. "Loz has been trying to tell all your good points to Cloud, but he ran out of points."

"Have you been eavesdropping?" he asked incredulously. Yuffie pushed herself off the wall with a foot, walking in step with him and flashing a grin.

"Well, obviously – I'm a ninja aren't I? Eavesdropping is like second nature."

She threw her arms into the air dramatically, sighing. Yazoo was reminded very strongly of Kadaj, and resisted the urge to tell her so. He knew she'd probably take it the wrong way. Instead, he asked, "You're a ninja?"

"Um, with the shuriken, what else do you think I am?" She rolled her eyes – another trait of Kadaj's. All Yuffie needed now was the confident strut of the shoulders, and she'd nearly be there. "Oh, you've never seen my Conformer, but still, you ought to have figured it out. You're lucky you've got me to educate you on everyday matters. I should extend my title to The Great Ninja Matchmaker Mentor Yuffie Kisaragi. How does it sound?"

Yazoo returned her smile when she punched his shoulder lightly. "You're right. I am lucky," he replied.

It came as a surprise when Yuffie spoke again, her voice layered with solemnity. "I never thought I'd fall for Vinnie of all people. It's quite weird. Take me back about two years and I'd think he's some loser who doesn't know what 'socialise' means. What about you? Did you always go for girls like Tifa?"

He frowned at the question, repeating it in his head several times and attempting to string an answer. What qualities did he look for? Presuming he was looking for a girl of course…

Yuffie was eyeing him with a hint of impatience, so he answered, "I like girls with brown hair."

Yuffie was silent for a few seconds, before informing him seriously, "That's very shallow, Yazoo."

They both laughed at his stupidity, reaching the grounds outside of the church where the picnic was being set up. Loz and Vincent were there also, unpacking a hamper.

"We actually forgot to bring the main bulk of the food," Yuffie explained, "so those two went back to get it. It's a good job they did, or else you wouldn't have talked to Cloud. And Vinnie had the chance to make friends with Loz."

It was then that Yazoo wished sincerely that he could do something for the ninja; speaking of Vincent in such a wistful tone could only imply that the rift between the two had not been solved yet.

"Don't fret about it." Yuffie read his face and crossed her arms. "I'm simply waiting. Nothing could ever work out between Vinnie and me if I hop on about it. So I'm gonna wait. Even if I have to sleep in a coffin for thirty years. Ha ha."

She laughed emptily, oblivious to Yazoo not understanding the joke. Her pace quickened so that she could meet Loz ("You took your time, sling man!") and Yazoo took a place on the checked mat next to Tifa.

Lunch eventually started once Cloud had successfully stopped Owen from teasing Erica, and Yuffie had found the forks.

Yazoo was quick to realise that the lunch – particularly the salads – were made in Loz's style, although the ingredients had been chopped up haphazardly, as though the chef in question was in a hurry.

As Loz explained later on, it was Yuffie who had made the lunch, with him giving her instructions. The two spent most of the lunch bickering with each other (over who deserved the credit for the lunch), and Vincent, in his best attempt to look unflustered, politely declined to open up Owen's shaken bottle of a fizzy drink. Keeping his promise of meeting halfway, Cloud sat next to Yazoo with Marlene on his other side, discussing the importance of the latter eating her greens.

With everyone so absorbed in their own conversations, Yazoo was very tempted to occupy himself with Tifa, especially since she was sat so close to him. But he doubted that would go down well with Cloud, and with children around, they'd either make embarrassing kissing sounds (which was what Owen had been doing to him, Yazoo realised) or groan in disgust.

He opted to play with her fingers, sifting them through the gaps of his, stroking her knuckles. As far as he was aware, it was only Vincent's observant eye that caught them. Nonetheless, the red caped man's attention was quickly diverted when Owen opened his fizzy drink, which hissed and squirted lemonade onto those around him.

"Owen, you shouldn't have shaken it," said Tifa over the voices of shrieking children. She made to get up, but Vincent gave a slight wave of his hand, saying, "Don't worry Tifa, I can clear it up."

Yazoo watched Vincent interestedly. Though seemingly fearsome on the outside, he had such a gentle side that the children warmed up to, that Yuffie so desperately liked about him. If that was so, then why was heset on being labelled a monster? What was it with Yuffie's coffin joke? Was there a link?

* * *

**A/N:** Yay, Cloud's well on the way to being sorted! Though he's not a favourite of mine, I don't want to bash him and make him OOC for it. I hope he was okay. I'm under the impression that even if Cloud doesn't love Tifa, he cares for her greatly and as such, behaves that way. There wasn't much YazooTifa at all in this, but as I've mentioned before, I had to do a chapter that explains Cloud's situation. There will be YazooTifa in the next chapter, so you can all look forward to that! Obviously, it won't be happy families for too long, so enjoy it while you can –grin-. Oh, and in case you're wondering how Loz knows Aeris, that's come from my other fic Ame ni Matte. 

Now I'll be a pain and ask you to review this chapter – there are over _70_ people who have this story on alert. Seriously. So I know you're all out there! –looks through binoculars– Please be kind and review! I'd really appreciate it!


	16. Work

**A/N:** Chapter 16's here! Originally, it wasn't very long at all, but that was overcome when I stuck in Vincent. He's getting more and more important, as you'll find out later on. This is a YazooTifa chapter, so here's hoping you'll like it! But no Loz :( Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as well as anonymous reviewers riek rawrz and Ninja Rikku!

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 16: Work**

It had taken Yazoo this long to appreciate his jeans and sweater. Even if the jeans were a few centimetres too big at the waist and the sweater was deformed with the incessant tugging of his sleeves, he wanted to wear them.

Yazoo checked his reflection again for the umpteenth time. Eyes scanned the white shirt tucked into the businesslike trousers. And the cufflinks. It was definitely the trousers he didn't like.

"I don't know…I look too…smart," he finally said. However lame she thought the answer was, Tifa's reflection was kind enough to reassure him with a smile.

"You might feel alien in them, but you look perfectly fine," she consoled. "If you wear that sweater and especially those leggy jeans, you'll look far too vulnerable. Men will start to come up and request things from you. And it won't be drinks either."

Yazoo turned round just as she caught him round the waist, giving him a quick, but affectionate nonetheless, kiss on the neck.

"What will they request from me?" he questioned her. Tifa laughed nervously, waving a dismissive hand.

"Sometimes I forget how innocent you are," she replied, opting to not answer his question. Instead, she studied his clothes again, and the dark brown gaze drifted around her bedroom in thought. "I should have bought that tie when we were at the department store. I think Cloud threw out all his old ones…"

"Honestly, I'm fine without one," Yazoo said quickly. If he was to dress up any smarter, Loz would never live it down. Yazoo had to cling onto whatever dignity he had left. It wasn't just this new uniform, but the fact that at some point over the three days since Tifa's birthday, he had offered to help out at the bar. Apparently. Yazoo couldn't remember saying so, but to be fair, he had nothing better to do, and how hard was it to bring drinks anyway? Yazoo was about to find out.

They passed Loz on the stairs, who was on the way to join Yuffie and Denzel's board game. He nodded his head in greeting to the two of them, and oddly, made no comment about Yazoo's uniform. Loz's eyes passed briefly over Yazoo and Tifa's interlocked hands (of which were only held together by their baby fingers). It had been awkward when Loz first caught them and their intimate gestures, and Yazoo still felt that way. However, Loz stressed to him that he was fine with it all, and quite frankly, he was so glad to see Tifa could make his incoherent daydreamer of a brother come out of his shell.

Perhaps what was more annoying about Loz was the significant raise of the eyebrows and patronising smiles he'd always give whenever there was a mention of 'love', 'sex' or 'girlfriend', all of which were courtesy to Yuffie. Yazoo swore that the two were working together to make his newly found relationship with Tifa as embarrassing as possible.

At the bottom of the stairs, Marlene was waiting for someone. Clutched tightly in her arms was the pad she always drew in; on seeing her, Yazoo unhooked his finger from Tifa's.

"Hey Marlene, are you looking for Denzel? He's upstairs." Tifa patted the girl's head.

"Is he?" Marlene's eyes were round, perhaps from disbelief but oddly, she was looking at Yazoo. "I suppose I'll go upstairs then."

"Make sure you go to sleep early," Tifa reminded. Marlene nodded, unmoving from her spot, eyes still fixed on Yazoo. Then, she took out her pad, flicking to a certain page.

"I'm drawing a picture of you," she explained, seemingly addressing Yazoo's chin, "and I need to ask you a very important question."

"Uh…okay then."

She turned serious and met his eyes. The picture was thrust out in front of him. Yazoo nearly choked. The picture depicted Tifa in a flowing white dress, flowers in one hand and a veil on her head. And there, stood next to her with a black suit and off-centred nose, was him.

"My question is," Marlene said seriously, "will you be wearing a hat at your wedding?"

The hallway suddenly felt rather hot. Yazoo busied himself with examining the nice cracks in the skirting board, and knowing that both Tifa and Marlene were watching him, he laughed anxiously.

"…To be honest Marlene, I…I haven't really thought about it."

Tifa's hand pushed back his fringe. "Well, I think you'll look good in a hat. Give him a hat, Marlene."

Yazoo gave her an incredulous glare. Him? In a hat? And why was Tifa giving Marlene ideas? The girl was now grinning, saying, "Okay!" as she raced up the stairs. Tifa simply returned his glare with a smile; her hand was still nestled in his fringe, stroking his forehead.

"You better wear a hat at your wedding then," she said. He followed her into the bar wordlessly, replaying the conversation in his head. Blatantly the children knew all about him and Tifa, and rather than hiding it, Tifa had opted to enforce it, as it were. He sighed inwardly, pondering who Marlene's informant was – Loz or Yuffie. If it was Loz, Yazoo was going to see to it personally that his brother got his comeuppance.

Tifa opened up 7th Heaven at 8:00, busying herself with customers straight away. For a few moments, tucking in a few chairs, Yazoo let his gaze wander over her, watching as she took orders and handed drinks. It was possibly because of Tifa's efficiency in bar hosting that Yazoo approached his first customers with a burst of confidence. He had practiced the line in his head before saying it aloud, so Yazoo was rather pleased with himself, enunciating, "What can I get you?"

The customer was a sour looking middle-aged man, who was slumped at the counter with a hand only just managing to keep up his chin. Since he was wearing a suit, Yazoo assumed this was a man tired from work and in dire need of a pick-me-up.

Unfortunately, the man's disgruntled reply of, "A vodka martini" was not something Yazoo could comprehend to. He realised he had forgotten what he was supposed to be getting, let alone what it actually was.

"I'm sorry…I-I didn't quite get that…"

The man's head jerked up immediately. "Do you even work here?" he snapped loudly. Yazoo quickly pointed to his 'Trainee' badge, attempting to keep his eyes on the situation rather than the people who were craning their necks to peer at the unhappy customer.

To Yazoo's dismay, the customer in question was in a foul mood, and grabbing the coaster by his elbow and yanking a pen out of his pocket, he scrawled the words 'vodka martini' in block capitals, followed by some insults, the politest of which was 'prick'. Absolutely charming. Yazoo arched his eyebrows and licked his lips, with nothing to say.

"Hey, you there…! Yep, you."

Yazoo looked up, startled. Cloud was making his way through the tables to the customer. The blonde snatched the coaster, read what it said, and addressed the grumpy man. "I'll go get you your vodka martini, but you'll be charged extra for it. Generally speaking, we don't use coasters as writing paper here."

Cloud left without waiting for a response, taking Yazoo firmly by the sleeve and pulling him aside. He took out some bottles.

"A vodka martini's dry white vermouth with vodka instead of gin. Don't forget it," he said brashly. Nearby, Tifa gave him a worried, questioning look. "And for Shiva's sake, Yazoo," Cloud continued, "don't approach the moody customers. You're meant to be helping Tifa here, not being a burden on us all."

"…Right," Yazoo managed. His good mood, earned previously by the time spent with Marlene and Tifa, faded away and left him miserable. "Sorry."

He took the vodka martini from Cloud and served it to the customer, who muttered his thanks unwillingly. Yazoo opted to serve the conversing men in the corner of the bar – they didn't look too moody at all, and quite strangely, they kept peering at him. As Yazoo passed Tifa, she asked him if everything was all right, to which he replied with a half-hearted, "…Just chose the wrong customer."

The men in the corner jumped simultaneously when Yazoo reached them. For a few innocent seconds, the clone thought the men had acted so because of the interruption to their conversation, however, his heart sank another inch or so when he recognised the faces. Of course people had seen him and Loz at the monument, panicked when shadow creepers leapt out from the ground. They weren't likely to forget that incident anytime soon.

He coughed lightly. "Uh…what can I get you?"

The customers were equally nervous, and asked with apprehension for gin and tonic. Lumbered with another request he couldn't fulfil, Yazoo had no choice but to ask Tifa to help him, approaching her and her customers tentatively. The fact that she was kind enough to tell him what a gin and tonic was and not to worry about it, only worsened Yazoo's mood.

Later on in the evening, when Yazoo had decided to clean up tables, someone requested for a bottle of mineral water. Glad that he could recognise this drink, Yazoo was all too eager to get it, and as a consequence, he knocked into a table, sending the bottle flying into the wrong customer's hands.

The entire bar – including Tifa – laughed at him. Yazoo's mood reached a record low, and after the bar finally closed, he slumped against the counter, throwing his rag aside.

"Don't ask me how my day went."

Tifa sat on the barstool nearest to him. "It takes time, Yazoo. Everything doesn't go perfectly when you first start off. Besides, there were several customers I served who liked your enthusiasm in helping."

"Did they really like me," Yazoo asked hollowly, "or are you just saying that? I mean…to me, it looked as though I didn't do much at all. More of a burden."

"You were there, weren't you?" answered Tifa. She tidied away the rag. "That's more than anyone else has done."

Yazoo still wasn't convinced. He could only see in his head the suspicious glances directed at him. He wetted his lips, fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt and dejectedly, took off the trainee badge.

"Quite a few people recognised me."

"They'll learn to trust you over time," said Tifa patiently. She grinned. "Hey, you won over Cloud, didn't you? If you can do that, then there's nothing to worry about."

Yazoo gave a soft laugh, wishing afterwards it didn't sound so derisive. "I hope so."

Tifa stood up and tucked the bar stool under the counter. It scraped across the floor with a screech. Her hands slid up his arms, offering the comfort he suddenly craved. He made to kiss her, running his nose down hers, however, their time alone was cut off when a cough sounded by the door.

It was Vincent, stripped from his usual red cape and hence, only looking half as foreboding in his black clothes. Tifa broke away from him, although she was still stood quite close. Vincent was unruffled, almost as though it was normal to come downstairs at night to see a pretty bartender and a Sephiroth clone together with a little more than friendship on their mind.

"I was rather thirsty," Vincent explained. His clawed hand gestured to the bar's sink. "I'm just here for a drink."

He pulled open the fridge, pouring in a glass of cold water. From where Vincent was, it wasn't possible to see Tifa's hands stroking his lower arms, though personally, Yazoo wouldn't put it past the man. There was something strange and suspicious about Vincent – perhaps it was because of his collected attitude or how at some points of a conversation regarding Vincent, Yuffie would think over her words, choosing them carefully.

Yazoo watched the man, and Vincent's eyes looked up from the drink to meet his.

"Would you like a drink too, Yazoo? I'm supposing that's why you're looking at me."

"…Uh…y-yes," Yazoo said weakly. He couldn't help but stare and wonder. It was still on his mind even as Vincent left the bar. Yazoo waited until he was gone, however, this in itself was quite hard to do, since Vincent was virtually inaudible. The clone opted to wait half a minute. Then, over his glass of water, he asked Tifa, "…I-is there something about Vincent? Unusual, I mean."

Tifa took a sip from the glass, arching her eyebrows at the question. "…Why don't you ask him?" she answered.

Yazoo was expecting a reply like that. He doubted he had the confidence to waltz up to Vincent and ask him casually why he was so unusual. Tifa was probably thinking along the same lines, since a smile had graced her face, amused by his wordless response. She wound several strands of his hair round a finger, watching as they spiralled out, back to the way they usually were.

"Why do you keep your hair long?" she asked.

"…So the scientists could tell the difference between Kadaj and me." It seemed to take more than a few seconds for Tifa to digest this, so he added, "I…also like it long. I like to think it suits me."

He decided not to say that it was also a curtain in which he hid behind. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh…" Tifa paused for a moment, thinking. "…I overheard Yuffie asking Loz about it. I think the question cropped up when Yuffie was showing him where the hair gel was, Anyhow, Loz didn't know the answer himself. And before I forget…"

She rummaged around behind the counter, writing something down as she took some gil out from the till and showed it to him.

"It's gil," Yazoo pointed out rather needlessly.

"It's your wages!" Tifa exclaimed. "For working in the bar."

Yazoo just about stopped himself from squirting out the water in his mouth, and as a result, he choked, swallowing it awkwardly.

"Tifa, you said nothing about me getting paid…" he uttered. "Don't you think it's strange enough with us together already? To have me as your employee would be…just weird."

Tifa paid no mind to his anxiety, handing him the gil and tapping his collarbone. She told him with a mischievous smile, "You need to start saving up for that hat."

* * *

**A/N:** And here people, ends part one of Kuro to Gin. Technically speaking, this fic doesn't have parts, but what I mean is that from here on, a new plot shall be introduced! I've pretty much integrated Yazoo and Loz into the family (hopefully), so I've decided to give this fic a little twist to it. And not a happy one at that. Vincent gets more important, and I think I'll need to stick in a bit of Cloud and Tifa's confusing relationship in regards to Yazoo. There'll also be another pairing (also hopefully, if it works out or ends up totally irrelevant).

If you want to read fluff, by all means, you can take this off your alert and go read something else (I sound like Lemony Snicket – if you know the guy, the blurbs on the back of his books discourage people from reading it). But for everyone else, let's all get prepared for angst, drama and two extra characters that will make an appearance in the next chapter!

And as a side note to ParadiseWolf, if she's reading, here's a good point from which to carry on with your spin off of this fic. And to everyone else, go and read it! But don't forget to review this chapter! Please?


	17. Omen

**A/N:** So you've decided to stay, have you? Well, I'm not complaining, though I'm really nervous about putting up this chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate such great feedback! This chapter's got quite a lot of info, so bear with it please! Also, don't be confused by how it starts – I haven't confused it with Ameagari: I was just experimenting in how to start chapters more interestingly, and who can that pull off better than Kadaj? I know a lot of you miss him :)

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**- Part 2 -**

**Chapter 17: Omen**

There was once an occasion when Kadaj had been beaten up by some older youths. In the short time that he had abandoned his elder brother Loz, the youngest had got caught with the wrong crowd, and came back bloodied and bruised. He was furious that he had been so easily beaten, it was one of many events that fuelled his determination to master Souba.

During the time when Loz and Kadaj were out, Yazoo had stayed at their makeshift home, sorting out their finances and from time to time, running through finger and wrist exercises to better wield Velvet Nightmare. When his brothers were out, Yazoo never worried: Kadaj was safe with Loz, and anyone who picked on Loz was far from in their right mind. However, on that day, there was the unpleasant gut feeling that just wouldn't go away. He found he couldn't count their gil, let alone fire Velvet Nightmare's bullets into the targets pinned up. The weapon was slippery in his grasp; it was hardly like him to be so flustered, so worried that something bad was happening.

As a battered Kadaj stumbled into view with an enraged Loz, Yazoo's intuition proved right, and he wished he had come along with them. Perhaps, if he had done so, he could have stopped Kadaj from leaving Loz's side.

Even after the years, Yazoo never forgot that lurching, uneasy feeling that settled in his stomach. The nauseous dread he felt waiting for his brothers to come back, the horror of seeing Kadaj hurt.

To his utmost surprise, he found it was back a few days after his first day working in the bar, as he wiped down a few tables, clearing up as customers began to finish off their drinks.

He dropped a wineglass. An act that was as unlikely as him feeling nervous holding his gun. He could only watch stupidly; the glass shattered with an audible ring. The bottom half of the glass rolled round in a semicircle, and the small shards flickered from the light above. Pretending that no one was watching him, Yazoo bent down and made to pick up the stem of the glass with two fingers, however, a prickly brush swatted his hand aside.

"We use a dustpan and brush around here to clean up," said Tifa. "I don't want you cutting your fingers."

Yazoo straightened up, lightly throwing the damp cloth onto the table. He ran a tongue over his lips. Behind him, the sound of rain intensified as a burly man left the bar, pushing the door open to traipse into the dark street.

Maybe it was because of the rain and thunderclaps that Yazoo was feeling nervous. Telling himself that, he continued with his cleaning up, careful to not drop any more wineglasses. He could hear Tifa in the background, only just audible over the hammering against the windows, saying goodbye to regular customers.

He had been cleaning the same table for the past five minutes. It was impeccably shiny. He wiped it down a bit longer, picking up the ashtray. It nearly slipped from his grasp when thunder clapped again, in time with the door swinging open and bouncing off the wall.

A figure stood in the doorway, tall, lanky and languid in its posture. He walked into the warmth of the bar, bringing in with him what could quite easily pass as a bucket's worth of rainwater. Yazoo's stomach plummeted and lurched up again on noticing the red hair, lightly freckled face and aquamarine eyes. It seemed as though Yazoo's past was never going to stop chasing him, no matter how hard he tried.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance," Tifa smiled. She tossed the stranger two navy towels.

"What can I say? The weather's always on my side."

Contrary to his statement, the stranger's scruffy suit had been stained an even darker blue, and his shirt stuck to him. Behind him, a woman wringed out her hair, dabbing carefully at her face with a towel. Yazoo didn't need to see her face to recognise her though. He met Tifa's eyes pleadingly, trying to tell her without words that this was going to be no happy reunion.

Tifa didn't understand, and Yazoo couldn't blame her. Judging by her amiable actions, the two blue-suited strangers were her friends.

"Reno, Elena, this is Yazoo. Yazoo, this is Reno and Elena." She gestured to the redhead first. It was surprising how difficult it was to look at them in the eyes; Yazoo could only keep his gaze for a few seconds before seeking refuge, returning to his cleaning.

"It's a surprise to be seeing you here," answered Reno, although he didn't sound surprised at all. He readjusted his goggles, raking a hand through his unkempt hair before taking a seat at the counter. Yazoo could feel eyes on him. "The usual if you don't mind, Tifa."

Yazoo tidied up for many minutes, determinedly ignoring the animated conversation behind him. He caught frequent words like "Rude" and "Shinra", but the hushed tones told him that he wasn't supposed to be hearing. He was curious as to why the Turks had arrived – was it just for a drink?

With dismay, he realised that the ashtray needed emptying. The bin was behind the counter, so, careful to avoid eye contact, Yazoo edged past Tifa, shaking the contents of the tray in.

Elena eyed him over the tip of her wineglass. Yazoo wondered what he could clear up next – he had to find something…

"So, where's Loz?" Reno asked, shaking off his soaked blazer and tossing it over the back of a nearby chair. A set of keys tumbled out from a pocket. "Oh bugger."

The redhead got up to pick them up. Yazoo watched Tifa, whose eyes had briefly narrowed suspiciously. Then she spoke tersely, saying, "…Loz is upstairs."

Yazoo tidied away the ashtray, only half-aware that he was doing so. Somehow, Reno knew that Loz was alive, and mysteriously, used the clone's name with such ease, it sounded as though Reno had been using it for a long time.

"We're here on business, Tifa," explained Elena. One leg crossed over the other, and a hand drummed on the table. The last customers, bar the Turks, got up to leave. Yazoo watched them go, and suddenly, an unfamiliar wash of nervousness hit him.

Reno was back in his seat. "Tifa, you don't suppose you could get him, could you?"

"But I--"

Yazoo wasn't sure how Tifa was going to finish that sentence. If the Turks were here on business, they couldn't just refuse.

"Don't worry," Reno drawled, flashing a grin, "if clone boy down there starts to get a bit rowdy, I won't hesitate to--"

He mimed having someone in a headlock and hitting him with a well fisted punch. Elena rolled her eyes. Reno's comment hardly comforted Tifa, and Yazoo opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but she quietened him with a discreet hand on the arm, leaving the bar through a side door.

Yazoo had experienced worse silences than this one, but it was undoubtedly very awkward. Elena was still looking at him fiercely, eyes ablaze. Reno however, was keen to start a chat.

"You've been tamed, haven't you?" he remarked. "Weren't too long ago when we fought, with you trying to kick my balls off."

Yazoo blinked, and straightened the pile of ashtrays.

Reno laughed blithely. "Not very talkative, are you? Then again, we know all about quiet people don't we, Elena?"

He turned back to Yazoo, arm leaning more on the counter. The clone ducked under it to put away the ashtrays. Some of the trays already in there were askew, so he righted them.

"Where's your cocky attitude gone? You were so much more overconfident before."

Reno's voice rang over the bar. Yazoo tried to ignore the redhead, but as soon as he straightened, the said Turk's face was waiting. He still had that smug smile.

To be honest with himself, Yazoo's cocky attitude was wherever Loz was. It was incredible how his brother's presence could modify his personality: an increase in confidence, the absence of fear, that warm feeling of knowing he was safe.

Yazoo made a stab to join in the conversation, knowing that sooner or later, he'd have to apologise. It wasn't Reno he approached though, despite the redhead's efforts to talk to him. Elena was in some sort of war with her hair, trying to find the right parting and guiding her fingers to brush it.

"…Elena?"

He ignored Reno, who had also looked up. If Elena was surprised to hear him address her, she didn't show it at all.

"I…I'm sorry," he stammered. "The three of us…hurting you. I really am sorry."

"Hmph, don't worry about it," Elena muttered huffily. She gave him a pointed look. "At least you found your mother, right? That's all that mattered, wasn't it?"

"…I'm sorry," Yazoo said again. He tried to think of something else to say, but that need ceased when the side door swung open, and to his surprise, brought in more than just Loz and Tifa.

Cloud was evidently annoyed at being disturbed at such an hour, and relayed that feeling to Reno by yawning without covering his mouth and glancing at the wall clock.

"I'm a busy man, Cloud!" Reno exclaimed. "I don't have the time for breezy rides in the countryside on my bike, I couldn't fit in any other time, and besides, the bar's still open!"

Next to Cloud was Vincent, capeless and accompanied by his usual quiet air. One dark brow was arched very faintly in curiosity. From behind Loz, Yuffie emerged – her scowl became more tactless when her eyes rested on Reno and Elena. She exchanged looks with Loz before she settled at a table.

"Geez, Reno," she said, "you simply can't resist being a pain in the arse, can you?"

"I'd actually take that as an insult if it didn't come from you," came the redhead's carefree response. His bright eyes settled on Loz, who apparently, had been getting ready for bed, since loosely hanging over his jeans, was his pyjama vest. His face reflected confusion, showing traces of embarrassment and guilt whenever he looked at Elena. "Is this the full house or something? I only asked for Loz, Tifa."

Tifa was unabashed. "I'm assuming you're here because of Loz and Yazoo, and that concerns all of us."

"You said you were here on business. What business?" Cloud pulled out a chair with his leg and slumped onto it. Even from the other side of the bar, Yazoo could see the blonde's clear frown.

"Yeah, hurry up with it," grumbled Yuffie, "you're boring me to death."

"Funny you should mention death." Elena got off her barstool, her booted feet clunking against the floor. She seemed to dither for a moment. "Look…I only offered to go instead of Rude because I thought I'd be more sensitive about it, but I can't think of any other way but to put it bluntly. Yazoo and Loz, you were both administered a termination drug. As creations of ShinRa, the President felt it was necessary that for the safety and wellbeing of Midgar and Edge's citizens, any potential vessels for Sephiroth and the Reunion should be dealt with. You both have six months left."

It took a while for it to sink in. Or so Yazoo thought. He had registered it without really understanding what it meant. He felt numb, but even so, he could see his hands were shaking. His knees were struggling to hold up his weight; the room danced around him, rendering him dizzy. He was going to die, a voice inside told him. In six months, he was going to be dead.

He was even more shocked to discover that he wasn't surprised. Or scared. Perhaps in his unconscious mind, he had been waiting for something like this.

He glanced at Loz, whose expression was contorted. Beneath the warm eyes was a flash of fear. Reno had fixed his gaze on Yazoo, watching his every response. Yazoo didn't dare to look at Tifa; he was partly afraid to see her face.

"The day of the explosion," Reno elaborated, "you were administered with it. You can view it as a kind of after-service. I mean, it was Elena and me who treated you. You didn't think you'd be able to survive two weeks without help, did you?"

Yazoo racked his brains to think. After the explosion…what _had _happened to him over that fortnight? What did he do?

"And if you think that's surprising," continued Reno, "Why don't you ask how they ended up here of all places?"

He didn't give them much time to think; Yazoo was quite certain what the answer was going to be anyhow.

"We waited for Tifa to pass by so that we could leave Yazoo with her. And Loz, despite being in hospital, found his way here because of us. The hints we dropped for his location were obvious, so Cloud would find him."

"Loz was much worse off. We had to take him to hospital." Elena's eyes softened a little in Tifa's direction. Yazoo finally looked at her, but was disappointed to find her face was hidden behind her hair. "I'm sure a lot of this makes no sense to you."

"No it doesn't, actually," Cloud interjected. "Don't take it the wrong way here, but bearing in mind this termination, why did you save them?"

Loz nodded as well, apparently recovering from his shock. "You could have just killed us then."

"Believe me, it was tempting." Elena spoke icily, and her eyes hardened again, leaning against the counter. Reno rounded on her, appearing to be affronted.

"What's with the personal attacks, 'Lena? You're supposed to be the sensitive one here." Reno slid off his bar stool to face Yazoo and Loz. Without either of them really noticing it, Loz had sidled over to his brother. Yazoo observed that whenever the redheaded Turk spoke, his hands would make gestures, emphasising particular points and trying to be light hearted about a situation that didn't call for it.

"Rufus has his reasons for letting you live, I can tell you that. Perhaps he wanted you to enjoy life as how it can be. Or perhaps he wanted you to suffer until the very end. Even we don't know what our President's up to sometimes. But I guess, either way, he's given you two time to redeem yourselves, and compensate for everything you did."

"And regardless of whether they have done so or not, they'll meet the same end."

It was the first time Vincent had spoken; Reno had to look around for a few seconds before locating the source of the deep voice. The Turk was suddenly more careful with the use of his words; Vincent always seemed to have that effect.

"Seriously," Reno started, gesturing with his arms again. His eyes appeared to lock on Yazoo more than anyone else. "…Can you blame Rufus? Those brothers were intent on bringing back Sephiroth, they _tortured_ Elena and Tseng--" Here, Elena gave both Loz and Yazoo a steely glare.

"All these problems, Rufus can't help but feel guilty…well, I don't know if it's guilt exactly," added Reno, "but the President knows that he's in a position where in order to make a difference to this world or not, he has to get rid of ShinRa's past cock ups--"

"Get rid of what?" Tifa's head jerked up. Though Yazoo didn't mind at all being referred to as a cock up (he had heard much worse), Tifa was exceptionally offended by it.

"Tifa, it's okay," he started, just as Loz uttered, "It's all right, no offence taken."

However, she ignored the two of them, addressing Reno with her eyes. It was then that Yazoo realised he had never seen Tifa angry before. The eyes he had grown to love were now unrecognisable. Where previously they shone with optimism and warmth, they now radiated passion and nothing short of vicious.

"I asked what you just called them." According to Tifa, it was only Reno and Elena in the bar, for she had paid no attention to Cloud's hand reaching for her arm or Vincent's soft call of her name. "They're mistakes ShinRa made that have to be dealt with without so much as a discussion?"

"…This is the discussion, Tifa," Elena consoled half-heartedly.

"And while ShinRa has a second chance to set the world straight again, Yazoo and Loz have none?" Her voice was rising in pitch, wavering every now and then. Reno was staring at her as if he had never seen a woman before. Yazoo was greeted by the unfamiliar sensation of fright. "You know what ShinRa was motivated by? Greed. And the brothers? A-all they wanted was their mother! Who do you suppose made them motherless?"

Loz had darted forwards, mouth dropping open, but it was not Tifa he hurried to. He passed everyone inconspicuously, since all eyes were on Tifa.

"…The clones haven't been here long…I…I didn't think you'd be so worked up about it," Reno told Tifa in poor self-defence.

"Worked up?" repeated Tifa. "I'm not worked up, not at all…maybe a little annoyed a-and…"

Yazoo heard Tifa before he saw her. The muffled, anguished cry she gave before she could even finish her sentence. How her fury had dissipated, abandoning her and leaving her not with angry words, but choked sobs. Her head fell into waiting hands.

She was crying. Tifa was crying. For the second time that night, Yazoo saw Tifa do something he had never seen her do before. He was around the counter in a flash, failing his promise of not shattering anymore wineglasses. Two of the cups tottered onto the floor, exploding into tiny fragments. No one paid any mind.

Yazoo drew her hands away from her face. There was only a split second's worth of eye contact, and then Tifa fell against him, hands gripping the fabric on his back roughly, an act that was very unlike her. Fingernails scraped at the nape of his neck in such a desperate manner; it actually hurt, Yazoo vaguely realised. In an odd moment, he wished Tifa wouldn't hug him. It was terrible, and it didn't offer either of them comfort at all. Just fear.

He held her tighter in the hopes that by doing so, he could share her pain. His attempt was futile. As shocked as he was, he couldn't cry, or be angry with the unfairness of it all. Yazoo wondered why. Was he even sad?

"Right, that's it," Cloud said loudly, taking one look at Tifa. "Where's Rufus? I want to talk to him personally."

"He's in Junon," protested Reno.

"Then you can get on your phone and have him come back here," snapped the blonde. Yazoo lifted his head up. For his entire life – and Loz's, and Kadaj's – they had searched for a family, and now that he had one, Yazoo had to admit to himself that it was beyond what he had expected. It really hurt. It was awful listening to Cloud demand to see the President, telling Reno that the clones were part of the family, and to look at the state of Tifa. The blonde swordsman cared so much, it was unintentionally painful.

He wanted to go back to the life where no one but his brothers cared for him, back when everything made _sense_…

Yazoo's eyes worked their round the bar to find his brother. With a sickening feeling, he noticed that Loz was at Yuffie's side. Yuffie hadn't said a word since finding out about the six months they had left. The shock was too great and powerful, that all she could do was stare blankly ahead at the table, seemingly oblivious to Loz's undertones of comfort. Vincent had opted to stand near Yuffie, just close enough to talk to her, but far enough so that he had a good point from which to observe the Turks.

Elena, stood at the counter, had been quiet for a while. Yazoo noticed dully that her eyes were locked on Tifa more than anyone else. What was she looking at? Did she think it was interesting watching Tifa cry? Then, the Turk spoke, adopting a hesitant tone Yazoo would have declared as false if her eyes hadn't softened so much.

"A-are…you two…" she started. She frowned, and tried again. "Are you two together?"

Reno and Cloud's argument faltered. Apparently, Reno couldn't make sense of Elena's question, staring at Yazoo and Tifa, and then back to Elena again. His aquamarine eyes narrowed on meeting Cloud's gaze, confirming the answer to the question through them.

"I knew there was something," the redhead said after a fleeting silence. "Just knew it. Old Lockheart there, smiling away – knew someone was making her happy. At first, I thought that maybe…" his eyes rested on Cloud for the briefest of moments "…well, whatever I thought, it definitely weren't clone boy."

Tifa didn't look up from Yazoo's shoulder, but this changed when Reno picked at his wet shirt and dusted down his hands with an air of finality.

"Right, I don't know about you Elena, but I've had a change of heart." He grabbed his blazer, wrinkling his nose at the smell of rain and cigarettes mixed together. "I'll see if I can get Rufus to contact you. Fulfilling ShinRa's debts is one thing, but destroying a happy couple is another. Well," Reno added lightly, "I'm assuming you two are happy since I haven't seen much 'cept for Tifa sobbing on you like that, but whatever."

His fingers flexed at the door handle, waiting as Elena shrugged on her blazer.

"Life's a bitch, or in your case, a particularly nasty one. We'll be in contact," said Reno. He left the bar first, bringing in a shower of rain carried by the strong wind. Elena paused at the door, and to Yazoo's surprise, handed him her pack of tissues before leaving as well. He didn't know whether to label her actions as sympathetic or sarcastic.

The door fell shut, but Elena's shouts of, "Reno! Wait up!" could be heard. Soon, there was no more of the Turks, except for the tell-tale sign of lipstick on a wineglass and the faint aroma of smoke lingering in the silence.

* * *

**A/N:** Does it rain in May? It certainly does in England. I needed some sort of ominous weather, so I put in the downpour of rain, since it's not exactly impossible. Reno's got a bigger part, but there was only so much of him I could fit into this chapter.

And so, with the end of this chapter, you're introduced to Part 2 of Kuro to Gin – yep, a new plot has reared its very ugly head! If it's a bit extreme or odd, I can quite easily change it because I do have a kind of 'back up' plot, but this is the way I want to go, since like some reviewers have said, this fic has been a bit smooth for a while now, and we could do with something that ties the chapters together rather than chapters of one-shots. This is the part where you review and tell me how much you abhor this plot :) Once again, thanks to everyone who's reviewed – hearing your responses to each chapter really means a lot.

On another note, I will be in Japan for a monthso to put it into short, this fic is on a weird hiatus. As in, it will be updated, by NOT by me. So no review replies. Just pre-written notes and chapters.


	18. Hope

**A/N:** Hiya everyone! This is the first chapter of two pre-written updates because, as I hope you can recall, I am not here! I hope that you all enjoyed the previous chapter – from the first lot of reviews I read, I'm assuming you did, but Reno did make his exit pretty quickly. Therefore, he's back in this chapter to finish off the explanations. The thing with informative chapters is that there's only so much you can write before it starts to sound boring, tedious and you're quoting a textbook. So hopefully this chapter will clear things up. Thanks for all the reviews for the previous chapter!

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 18: Hope**

Despite the unusual, erratic hysteria she showed last night, Tifa looked peaceful as she slept. It was a terrible strain to keep upbeat and lively for the sake of the children that morning. Loz had such a forced smile on, Marlene had to ask him if he was feeling okay. Cloud was fiercely optimistic, scolding Yuffie and Loz for frowning or 'looking sad'. However, every now and then, the blonde would catch Yazoo's eyes, and they'd exchange grim smiles that showed none of the positivism the blonde was encouraging.

Such was the unhappy atmosphere, that Yuffie had no enthusiasm as she ushered the children to the front door; in fact, she looked as tired as ever, gazing at Loz wistfully. Vincent was quieter than usual, deciding to mull things over in the company of only a glass of water.

Tifa had slept through most of the morning; Cloud suggested letting her rest; he and Vincent sorted out the children's lunches and took them to school. Yazoo stayed with her, sat at the dressing table watching through the three panelled mirror the hands of her alarm clock moving round as the hours passed. It was nearly 11:00 when she finally awoke, eyelids fluttering and taking a deep breath.

"You've really let me oversleep," was the first thing she said, sitting up. Her pyjamas hung more from one shoulder, and some of her hair stuck out at odd angles. Yazoo crossed the room and her legs shifted to the side, allowing him enough space to sit on the bed.

"We all thought you could do with it. Cloud took care of the children," explained Yazoo. Tifa's gaze scanned over him, and then her pyjamas. It was quite evident that she was somewhat embarrassed to be seen in such loose clothing. He made sure his eyes were constantly looking above her neck to the beauty of his eyes, though his mind was telling him otherwise and screaming for him to look elsewhere. Saying that she was beautiful was an understatement, Yazoo decided fervently

Tifa's opinion was quite the contrary. "Gods…I must look awful. Usually I wouldn't let anyone see me like this..."

She took a sip from the glass of water at her bedside, giving him a sheepish smile. The only sound that could be heard was the steady ticking of the clock. After Reno and Elena's appearance yesterday, the clock suddenly seemed quite ominous.

Tifa was hugging her knees, which were tucked under her chin. The bedsheets draped over her legs and long hair curtained her face from view. She was apparently lost in thought, staring a few inches in front of her.

Yazoo gestured with a hand for her to look up. She did so, slowly in its action. He shifted his legs, now sat on the bed fully; licking one of his thumbs, he rubbed under her eyes, wiping away the dark smudges of mascara. Then he settled on brushing her hair with his fingers, edging closer.

"…How's Loz?" she asked, although by the tone of voice, she didn't sound like she wanted to know at all.

"He's a bit quiet, but…still smiling. You know, for the kids." Yazoo smiled himself, albeit rather grimly. "He looks a bit like a constipated nutcracker."

Tifa laughed quietly and drew him closer, wrapping her arms tightly round him. She elicited a deep sigh into his neck, pushed up against him, sat over one of his legs. He let his other leg dangle off the bed.

The hug was hardly comforting; it was more so desperate. Tifa had locked onto him, clutching him firmly, almost as though by doing it, she could keep him with her a bit longer, more than the six months he had left.

"And how are you?" she murmured against him, fiddling with one of his fingers. "Just when you were settling in, you find this out…you must be so shocked…and now…now you only have…"

Yazoo didn't let her finish, silencing her as he closed the gap between their lips. They shared the quiet afterwards, fingers working their way round each other.

"To be honest…" Yazoo wetted his lips "…I don't think I'm that shocked at all."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

His statement made her slide away from his arms; her eyes locked with his, questioning him. He pondered his points.

"…I might have actually been _expecting _something like this." He was beginning to surprise himself with the audacity in his words. Would he frighten her if he went on? Even if he was very nearly a human, it was true: he could quite easily be 'terminated'. "…I-it's not a nice feeling, being left alone in the world with no clue as to what to do. So, back when Kadaj was alive, he made sure we found out more about ourselves and our purpose here."

He willed himself to continue, racking his brains for those memories that told of Kadaj's adoration for Sephiroth, where everything had all started.

"Nibelheim," he said. "That's where we went."

No sooner as he had mention the place, did Tifa exhale, dropping her head in her waiting hands. Yazoo was startled to see such a reaction but at the same time, he had the sneaky suspicion that she was hiding something from him, even _about_ him.

"…What did you find out in Nibelheim?" she asked through her hands. She almost sounded afraid to hear the answer.

"The nature of us as experiments," Yazoo replied simply. "To put to the test a cloning theory: that even if brought up in a different environment – that is, the labs, as compared to Sephiroth's home environment – we'd still grow up to mirror him because of the genes as well as the, er, Jenova cells. There was substantial evidence to prove it…but due to the rules of science, the leading scientists agreed that should the experiments initiate danger more than providing scientific findings, it was advisable to terminate the experiment."

The bedsheets ruffled as Tifa's legs stretched themselves to rest her calves against one of his.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," she muttered. "Some mad theory some scientist probably came up with over his coffee break overrules your right to live?"

Yazoo shrugged. "Can you decide when you want to live or die, Tifa?"

His question momentarily stunned her. She averted her eyes from him. On the other side of the wall, Cloud could be heard on the telephone. It was a few seconds before she muttered, "…So unfair."

Yazoo shrugged for the second time. "Those scientists gave me Loz and Kadaj. Can't ask for much more than that, really."

He smiled inwardly, supposing he looked quite odd for doing so. However, Tifa was behaving more strangely. Her mouth was opening and closing, struggling to form a sentence, or more accurately, a question.

"…You mentioned t-the Jenova cells, and their supposed influence on you mirroring Sephiroth," she began plaintively, "so if that's true…everything you did…was that _you_, or was it those genes making you? I would like to know."

Yazoo didn't even need to think it over. Nevertheless, he gladly succumbed to a few seconds of thought, during which he contemplated how Tifa would respond to his answer. There was no point in lying to her, he decided.

"That was me," he said firmly enough so that she wouldn't doubt it. The nod of her head was her only answer, which suspiciously looked as though she had known the answer all along, and had simply wanted to confirm it. He drew her as close as possible, once again sinking into that comfortable hug. It was warm, but surprisingly distant, as if it was all they could do to pass the time. Then, he withdrew.

"Do you know much about Nibelheim?"

She was caught off guard. Nevertheless, she regained her composure and replied, "…A fair bit, why?"

"Well, I was just thinking," Yazoo murmured, "if it was possible to go there."

He shrugged again – it was an action that he seemed to be making a habit out of. He stopped midway, pushed back his fringe, and added, "…There might be something that helps. All our past research is there. I don't want to just sit around and do nothing."

Tifa offered a lifeless smile. "No, me neither. I'll be able to arrange a trip with Cid." Her voice strengthened, and she grabbed his hand firmly. "We're not just going to sit around. We'll find _something_."

* * *

Yazoo managed to catch Loz by himself just before dinner, when Marlene had shown him her homework in the living room. The older brother had been quite evasive all day, even avoiding the children as much as possible, cutting conversations short and acting as though he was already dead. When Yazoo confronted him, it was only the eyes of Loz that moved, greeting him wanly before joining the rest of his body in stillness. 

The living room was as untidy as ever. Stacks of new wallpaper stood in the corner, and magazines were piled in a haphazard fashion under the coffee table. A lot of them were about interior designs, some others regarding motorbikes. Stuffed between two of the sofa cushions was a hair scrunchie. A soft purple colour, Yazoo took it out before slumping onto one of the cushions, sticking his fingers through the band and flexing the elastic. Finally, Loz said something.

"…It's Marlene's. Owen took it from her and hid it."

It was never like Loz to talk so monotonously; Yazoo decided it didn't suit him at all. He set the hairband aside, seeing how fiddling with it had caused Loz's eyebrows to knit themselves together. He nudged his brother's foot with his own.

"…Do you think we'll find a cure?"

"No."

It was not the reply that was surprising, but the look of disbelief on his face, incredulous at the fact that Yazoo had asked such a question. The broken arm resting over his stomach shifted itself as Loz sat up straighter. Yazoo quirked a brow.

"It's not like you to be so blunt and pessimistic, Loz," he remarked.

"It's not like you to be overly positive," came the retort. Before Yazoo could ask what that meant, Loz answered it for him and added accusingly, "I heard about your Nibelheim idea."

"From who?"

Loz gave him a sour look, an action which, coming from Loz, was very odd. "Yuffie got it off Tifa."

He stretched his legs out further, surveying Yazoo through the strands of his ungelled hair. "You think you'll find something?"

"…Might do." Yazoo curled up on the sofa, averting his gaze from his brother. Loz made an odd noise, somewhere between a choke and a snort. Affronted but doing his best to hide it, Yazoo continued with, "Going to Nibelheim might help, Loz. You can't give up yet."

"I already have." Loz was uncharacteristically snappy. He leaned forwards to explain his behaviour, although his eyes had softened a little. "Look at me, Yazoo. No, seriously, look at me and tell me with a straight face that we'll find a way to solve this mess."

Yazoo busied himself with reading the front cover of a magazine left on the table. Marlene's hairband sat atop it. He couldn't do what Loz wanted.

"All that _we'll find a way_ crap worked when we were kids," Loz grumbled. "Don't work now. You think that by going to Nibelheim, you'll get some sort of hope that we'll live. But don't you see? Everything we have is in the hands of ShinRa, back like how it used to be. You're going to find _nothing_, Yazoo."

His words cut Yazoo deeply, but the disheartening truth that Loz had lost all hope hurt more. Where Yazoo could always rely on his older brother, and seek his comfort and reassurance, it now ceased to exist.

"…I'm sorry you feel like that," Yazoo answered, and attempted jokingly, "Sure you don't want to come as well?"

Loz didn't find it funny at all. He rolled his eyes, drummed his fingers against his stomach, and treated him to a glare.

"You go about whatever you want, Yazoo. I just don't think false hope's going to be any good."

"Least I have some hope," Yazoo snapped, "it's better than moping in here, anyway."

"Least I won't go wasting petrol flying around pointlessly on airships. I'll sit here for my remaining six months if I have to until I get news from those Turks."

Yazoo had forgotten how stubborn Loz could be. Compared to Kadaj, it was nothing, but hardly an enjoyable situation to wade through.

"If you go round being pessimistic, you'll bring down everyone else as well."

"No I won't. You can spread your false hope and tell about your great trip to Nibelheim."

"Well, you can tell everyone about how comfortable that armchair is and how the cushion's been moulded to be the shape of your--"

"Not arguing I hope?"

Yazoo jumped. Since when had the door opened? How long had Vincent been standing there, one foot acting as a door wedge?

"N-no," Loz stammered, "we were just, er, discussing."

Vincent, unsurprisingly, didn't buy it. He gave them both pointed looks that pretty much ended the argument, and addressed Yazoo.

"Yuffie states that there is a 'freckle-faced jerk' waiting outside of this bar for you."

Freckle-faced jerk? Even if she was very glum, Yuffie still had her wit. Yazoo didn't bother to look at Loz, following Vincent out the living room and to the front door.

He stepped onto the porch alone, shutting the door to 7th Heaven. The street was empty. He was about to turn around and go back inside when a voice, laced with amusement, called out to him.

"Over here."

Reno was sat on one of the barrels stood to the left of 7th Heaven's entrance. His dirt-lined shoes kicked at the wood as his legs swung lightly. Yazoo blinked in greeting. Had news come already?

"I got some spare time, so I thought I'd come along here." Reno acted as if his statement solved all mysteries, leaning his back against the wall and fumbling in his blazer pocket. "Yuffie kicked me out the bar before I was even there for five minutes. She was also too kind to explain to me where she'd stick that shuriken of hers if I even think about giving you a three month termination drug."

The redhead chuckled blithely, lighting a cigarette. On seeing Yazoo shake his head at the offer of one, Reno gestured to the barrel next to him. He sat down reluctantly.

"Rude sends his sympathies by the way. You know, ah, the bald guy your brother beat up. Didn't think it would get this complicated see. We thought it was just a quick administration, no loose ends. But it turns out that quite a few people want you to stay."

Reno took a long drag from his cigarette, having the courtesy to exhale away from Yazoo's face. However, the light wind only blew back the smoke, tickling Yazoo's hair and his throat as he breathed in. With effort, he held his choke, eyes watering.

"…What did you want to see me for?" Yazoo asked. He realised that he had spoken to Reno for the first time since their fight, and this fact appeared to be known to the redhead too, for he answered the question quite fervently, offering a complacent grin that Yazoo was never used to receiving.

"Do I need a reason? You don't need a reason to go visit someone – it's all part of being social. What's the world coming to, us two as acquaintances – is that what you're thinking?"

"…Kind of," Yazoo admitted.He could hear the animated natter of several children from the open window a floor above them.

"'Bout two years ago, was it? Well, about two and bit years then, Cloud and Tifa worked alongside us Turks to sort out some mess in Wutai. Since then, I guess their opinion of Turks have changed for the better." Reno grinned contentedly. "I respect Tifa. It's as simple as that. Now while you might deserve a time limit on your life, she don't deserve all this worry. I mean, you of all people should understand, she accepts anyone, period. And I suppose I owe her for that."

Yazoo wondered what exactly had happened between Cloud's team and Reno during the two years – perhaps they had started out as enemies, and then grew to accept each other. It was a familiar situation. Reno was right: Yazoo of all people ought to know that wash of relief when accepted into a society that wouldn't allow for it.

"…You don't strike me as a sentimental person," he commented. Reno's reply was benign but hinting at a tad of amusement.

"Neither do you. See…" He took another drag of his cigarette. "…We're actually pretty similar. We're both struggling for acceptance for who we are, we've got long hair, and we've both just been blown off by our best mates when we thought we could rely on them."

Yazoo looked up from the hem of his sweater. "What?"

"Yeah I know, shocking or what," answered Reno. "Called Rude this afternoon to put me through to Rufus – they're both down in Junon, see – and the bastard refused! Said that Rufus wasn't going to be interested in anything related to home until his trip's finished! And that's from my best mate – thought I could depend on him."

He gave Yazoo a knowing look. "Same goes for you and Loz, right? You two were arguing pretty loudly during the few minutes I was in the bar. Pretty weird. From what you two were like at the monument, I gathered that you got on well."

"We do," Yazoo snapped defensively, "Loz is just being a bit stupid, that's all."

"Feeling hopeless is human. We all feel it at some point or another. Same as being hopeful. Besides, feeling different to you isn't wrong, or stupid. It just goes to show you both have an individual way of thinking, even as clones. Surely that's good."

The redhead dusted down the front of his shirt matter-of-factly; Yazoo eyed him as inconspicuously as possible, from the crinkled suit to the carefree eyes studying the empty street.

Despite his uncertainty that Reno was a bit too friendly, it was oddly comfortable to be in his company, sat atop barrels and inhaling smoke. The fact that Reno had come to see him, for debatable reasons as to why, nevertheless felt indescribably pleasant. His uncharacteristically intelligent words offered reassurance, and Yazoo gratefully accepted it.

For the first time that day, he smiled, meaning it when he did. He had certainly underestimated the Turk.

* * *

**A/N:** My intention was to have two different reactions to the termination news – Yazoo with hope, Loz without. It also creates a bit of sibling conflict, which I hope, is understandable from both sides. Not sure about the Reno bit: he's now a crucial person in this fic, so it'd be great if you could let me know in a review. 

Reno has the important role of being Yazoo's first friend (since Tifa and co. count as family) and though he's usually portrayed as a bit of a stupid person, I think he's got to have some brains to be a Turk in the first place. In addition, you might have noticed I don't write 'yo' as part of Reno's speech. This is because it doesn't turn up in the English version of AC, nor the game itself. The Japanese "zotto" is just a way of speaking that can't be translated into English, definitely not 'yo' anyway.

Oh and remember, I am on holiday in Japan, and therefore, I won't be able to reply – or even read your reviews until September, but I **will **reply to them! Before then, you'll have another chapter instalment :) I hope you'll all stay tuned for **August 28th** – chapter 19 of Kuro to Gin! I really hope you guys are all having a great summer! Thanks for taking the time to read.

Lily


	19. Search

**A/N:** This is the second instalment of a pre-written update! I'll mention again that there are no review replies as of yet, but you can busy yourself with the reading of chapter 19 here! I'll also mention here a big thank you to people who did review the last chapter – it'll make a great welcome home reading when I get back – I really love hearing from you all, and without you guys, I wouldn't be motivated to write these chapters in advance. So, thank you! And enjoy! Oh, and it's from here that Vincent comes in, so this is for you Vincent fans!

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 19: Search**

Loz was still very talented in causing trouble without intending to.

Yazoo made that profound decision a few days after their initial argument. With no word from Reno or Elena, not to mention Rufus, 7th Heaven slowly began to recover from the news, but inevitably, it didn't mean they had forgotten about the six month race they were now embarking on.

Loz had been tactful, apparently, and labelled it as SMI. The Six Months Issue was referred to by its initials whenever the children were at home. It was hardly a situation Tifa or Cloud wanted to reveal to innocent minds, so they gladly accepted the idea of using SMI.

Unfortunately, this plan backfired for Yazoo. Since SMI's intention was to keep Yazoo and Loz's dilemma away from children's ears, it was natural to not say what it stood for.

Owen – perhaps the worst behaved child of all – pestered Vincent with surprising patience and determination, begging for SMI's true meaning. Yazoo should have guessed that denying the children an answer led to something more troublesome than following the adults like shadows.

"Secret Marriage Investigation," Yazoo told Tifa hollowly that afternoon. He dumped his newly-packed bag on a barstool, ready for catching an airship to Nibelheim. "That's what the kids think we're talking about."

Yazoo didn't need any clues to work out which two people were involved in the 'marriage'. To his surprise, it was Cloud who laughed.

"Leave them to it," he said simply, "it's far better to keep them occupied with that than people snuffing it."

Yazoo glanced at the children sat round the table near the back of the bar. Typically, Owen was in the middle, talking in a hushed voice as Marlene craned her neck to listen. At two barstools, Yuffie and Loz sat together: Yuffie was winding some coloured string around Loz's fingers, muttering something under her breath. It was only after a few moments that Yazoo realised that string had somehow tied its way onto Yuffie's fingers.

"…What are you doing?" he asked. Loz took the string from Yuffie's hands, where it returned to his fingers but in a different way.

"Cat's cradle," answered Yuffie simply. "Something I really like doing, 'cept Loz was being such a nitwit to start off with."

"Come on, it's not like you're the best to explain things," Loz retorted mulishly. Tifa set down her own bag, delving into its contents. She turned the bag and herself so that only she and Yazoo could see into it, and with a small smile, she showed him the cactuer doll sat nestled between a top and a cosmetics bag.

"For good luck," she said in an undertone. Yazoo returned her smile, glad to see some life back in her. If he had to be honest with himself, the children's definition of SMI and Cloud's determination had greatly cheered up Tifa, even Loz, who was not as grumpy or annoyed with the Nibelheim idea.

Cloud was attempting to look in Tifa's bag without being too obvious. Whether he got a glimpse of the doll or not, Yazoo wasn't certain, however, when the blonde spoke, there was nothing particularly unusual.

"When's Cid arriving?"

"Any minute now," replied Tifa. "Are you sure you don't want to come? Cid can wait a few minutes while you pack…"

"I think Yuffie and Loz will be a bad influence on the kids," he reasoned. He helped himself to more peanuts, scooping them out of a tray.

"They'll probably encourage this Secret Marriage thing," Yazoo chipped in. Both Yuffie and Loz looked offended at Cloud and Yazoo's statement, ignoring their cat's cradle and launching into a torrent of dissent.

"Least I'll _have_ some sort of influence!" Yuffie snapped at Cloud. "Least I'm not lifeless!"

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"And what's wrong with marrying, Yazoo?" Yuffie turned to him. "In Wutai, we don't just disregard marriage like that. It's the ultimate commitment!"

"Yeah, don't worry Yazoo, you'll understand your true feelings soon."

It was at that point that Yazoo wanted to thump his brother more than ever, and wipe that grin off his face. Yuffie really was having a bad influence, and it wasn't just on the children.

The distant rumbling suddenly amplified to – quite literally – sound outside the door. The windows trembled, and the children broke off their conversation, looking up to find the source of the noise.

"That would be Cid," said Tifa. She slung her bag over one shoulder with one hand and took Yazoo's sleeve with the other. He wished she didn't – the children were eyeing him excitedly, as though expecting him to drop down on one knee any minute and propose. He was taken to the door quickly, bag banging against his back. Tifa was out on the street, waving up at Cid as from the airship swung a ladder.

"You go first," Yazoo said to Tifa, instantly regretting his chivalry when he spotted Owen and Erica blowing kisses from the window, mouthing unclear words.

"You take care, 'kay," said Cloud from the porch. Loz and Yuffie waved from beside him. "Don't do anything stupid."

Yazoo climbed up the swaying ladder, avoiding the horrid temptation in him to look down. On deck, Cid greeted him in his usual way: with a scowl and a disappointed look to Tifa.

"Just to set things straight," the pilot warned, "I'm only doing this 'cause of Tifa. I'm doin' it for her, not for you. Now where's the last passenger?"

Yazoo blinked, peering round the deck curiously. With an unexpected swing of a bag, Vincent hoisted himself onto the airship. Yazoo knew it was rude, but he couldn't help but stare in mild surprise. Was Vincent coming along because he believed they'd find something?

"Sorry for being late." Vincent held up a small sachet. "I forgot the tranquiliser."

He handed it to Yazoo, who took it uncertainly. What was he supposed to do with it? Thankfully, Tifa noticed his small dilemma, thanking Vincent and taking the sachet from Yazoo.

"Tranquilisers help to keep your motion sickness at bay. Knowing Cid, he'll probably rock this airship more than usual."

Yazoo took the pill, muttering, "…He doesn't seem to be too keen on me."

"Well, Cid's very firm with his beliefs – it takes an awful lot to sway him," Tifa reassured. Yazoo watched Cid's retreating back.

"You'll be waiting a very long time for universal popularity," Vincent added.

The airship began to take off, leaving 7th Heaven. Relieved that his stomach wasn't doing somersaults, Yazoo accepted Tifa's offer to come inside the airship and have a look round. It was undoubtedly spacious and carefully arranged, seeing various rooms and a cockpit that overlooked the land below.

Getting to Nibelheim would take many hours, even by airship, so Tifa ensured there was a room for him to sleep in (same as Vincent's), since Cid refused to do anything hospitable. As Tifa hadn't spoken to Cid for a while, she decided to stay in the cockpit; it didn't take long for Yazoo to realise Cid was not happy to have him in his vicinity, so vaguely knowing the layout of the airship, Yazoo left Tifa to it and explored by himself.

Where previously he couldn't stand on deck without feeling nauseous, the tranquiliser he took allowed for him to appreciate the fresh air and surroundings. As sunset arrived, _Sierra_ was crossing over a long stretch of ocean. Yazoo marvelled at the sights, giving in to his daydreams. It had been a long time since he had visited Nibelheim, and of what he had grasped the other day, Tifa was familiar with the town as well. He sincerely hoped he'd find something so that he could prove Loz wrong.

As it got darker and hence, chillier, Yazoo headed back inside, finding that there was nowhere else to go but to his room. The door was quite heavy, so with most of his attention on it, Yazoo didn't notice Vincent until he was inside completely.

"…Oh," he started. "…I'm not disturbing, am I?"

Vincent was outstretched on his bed, arms tucked neatly under his head, legs crossed at the ankles. He could almost pass off as a Costa del Sol goer getting a tan. Yazoo wondered if laying on the bed was all Vincent had been doing throughout _Sierra_'s flight.

"Not at all," Vincent responded. "This is your room too."

Yazoo was still uncertain. Ultimately, being left in a room with Vincent meant having conversations, though honestly, he barely knew anything about the man and there was still that enigmatic air to make sense of.

He sat on his bed, deciding to pointlessly search through his bag for nothing. Vincent continued to stare at the ceiling, finding it seemingly interesting. Yazoo plumped up his pillow, wondering afterwards what had provoked him to do so. Yazoo ran his tongue over dry lips.

"Did you live in Nibelheim?"

"In a way."

What Yazoo meant to ask was why Vincent had abruptly decided to come to Nibelheim – Cloud had openly stated he'd stay behind, as did Yuffie and Loz, yet Vincent had neither confirmed or denied, and no one had pressed him for an answer. It only seemed to suggest that with Vincent – and even Tifa – there was something personal about Nibelheim.

"It's quite a nice town," Yazoo commented, deciding that the prolonged silence was enough.

"Yes, it is," agreed Vincent. He straightened up, swinging his legs off his bed so that his feet rested on the floor. "It's certainly much more colourful than Edge."

The airship rocked slightly; Yazoo caught the strap of his bag just before it toppled off his bed. Vincent – and his belongings – were unaffected by the sudden swaying, apparently used to it.

"Is the tranquiliser working?" Vincent questioned a few minutes into the quiet.

"Y-yes," Yazoo answered hurriedly. He had forgotten to thank him for it, and felt quite selfish. "Thank you for that. Have you given them to Yuffie?"

At the mention of the ninja, Vincent's hands relaxed, letting go of his knees, and his eyes softened as though he was disappointed that Yazoo had brought her up.

"…Tranquilisers don't really work for her. She has very strong motion sickness."

"So…how are you and Yuffie?" Yazoo was aware he was walking into an unadvisable territory – asking Vincent personal, bordering on accusing, questions was about as safe as poking a tonberry in the eye.

Vincent didn't answer, preferring to examine his clawed hand. Perhaps it was embarrassing to talk about her, or, as Yazoo thought was more probable, Vincent simply didn't – couldn't – appreciate her. Yazoo supposed this was influenced by something that had happened to Vincent before, something that Yazoo had nothing to do with, and hence, had no reason to hear of it.

"When did you visit Nibelheim?" Vincent changed the subject swiftly, craning his neck a fraction to look up at the time.

"Seven years ago."

It was a small movement, but with Vincent, however small, those odd gestures had a meaning. His eyes darted from the clock back to Yazoo's eyes, mind rewinding back the years to recall Nibelheim's state back then.

"I see."

"We travelled from Midgar all the way there," Yazoo recalled. "It's quite amazing, coming to think of it. There was so much that could have stopped us from getting there, but Kadaj…well, he was really keen on reaching Nibelheim…and he doesn't give up easily."

Vincent made a throaty noise of concurrence. "He was quite a remarkable person."

There was always something about the way Vincent spoke that made every word sincere. Whatever Vincent said, he meant. There were very little occasions that threw him, and of ones that did, it was then that the similarity Vincent had towards him screamed out.

Vincent knew Kadaj: Yazoo believed every word of it. The wine coloured eyes studying him only further enhanced his belief in it. In an inexplicable moment, the simple fact that someone else knew of Kadaj's extraordinary self eased him.

"…How did you know him?"

"I spied," Vincent said simply. "At the Forgotten Capital."

Yazoo felt a frown work its way onto his face at the mention of his old home. He knew what Kadaj was like when his search for his mother became more extreme, becoming more important than either brother and even himself. Cloud or Tifa or Vincent hadn't seen the real Kadaj, the little brother who in his life had once cherished everything of the world that came to him.

"He was remarkable," Vincent said again, this time more firmly, as if he could tell that Yazoo was having doubts. Then, he added, "Do you think about him much?"

"…A bit."

If 'a bit' meant going through a whole day thinking of Kadaj at some point, then Yazoo wasn't lying. Admittedly, Kadaj wasn't on his mind as much as he used to be: Yazoo had embraced his chance to live, and fate had decided that Kadaj would do so too somewhere else.

"It's odd, isn't it," Vincent said, sounding quite the opposite, "how the dead have such an enormous effect on us. More so than those we're around. Death's quite powerful."

"…I guess," said Yazoo, knowing that he sounded somewhat lame. How else could he reply to such a morbid statement? Perhaps it was just in Vincent's nature to find the topic of death easy to slip into a conversation. Everyone else seemed to avoid it: the formation of SMI was proof of that.

"If you think of it that way, regardless of what happens over these months, it'll end up as what's best. It's not like you'll be forgotten."

Yazoo attempted to smile. "…Thank you."

_It's not like you'll be forgotten. _

Vincent was trying to offer him some reassurance after all, but it was no doubt awkward.

"You all have somewhere to head," continued Vincent. His gaze appeared to need no effort to stay so steady. "Imagine an immortal life, imagine a life of _no _time."

"Must get boring," admitted Yazoo. This was the longest conversation he had ever had with Vincent, and without a doubt, his least favourite. The hem of his jumper was getting more and more disfigured as it wound round and round a nervous finger. "Must suck."

"Mustn't it."

* * *

**A/N:** Ha ha, Yazoo's still left out of the mystery surrounding Vincent. Yazoo didn't catch the immortal joke because he wasn't supposed to by the way. I don't know if it's a normal thing to tell jokes that only you understand :) 

I don't know if _Sierra_ does have rooms or not, but in this fic, it does! Anyway, Vincent's getting a biggish part next chapter, which shall be up when I get back. As a little note, the story Yazoo told about his trip to Nibelheim with Kadaj and Loz is, if you don't already know it, my fic _Ameagari: After the Rain_, which I thought I'd stick it in because it tells of a crucial part of Kadaj's development (I sound like a scientist now) when he finds out about who he is, and who Sephiroth is, and more importantly, his mother. From Yazoo's point of view, watching your little brother change into someone else is pretty depressing, so it tied in with this chapter – I hope it worked well!

This is the final of the updates whilst I'm gone – I hope you liked them! I didn't think it would be fair to go without updates for a whole month, and I had enough time to get these chapters (including the ones for Ameagari) done, though this particular one was a nightmare to write! I really hope you'll write a review to let me know what you think of this chapter – I love reviews, and it'd make a great way to end a holiday :)


	20. Defeat

**A/N:** Hello again! I've returned with another chapter! First and foremost, thank you so much to those who reviewed this story and Ameagari! I had to wade through my inbox, as far as 'wade' can be used in a technological situation. I'll also have to thank you for your patience with me getting everything sorted out. From here on though, everything should go back to normal.

I also received a review that quite sensibly pointed out that Cid's ship is called _Shera_, rather than _Sierra_. Although I fully accept this, I'll leave it as _Sierra _in this fic for continuity, but in future fics, I'll fit the fic with the canon. –wishes she could play D of C–

About this chapter: it was inspired by a song I adored listening to while I was on holiday. If you know the new Studio Ghibli film "Gedo Senki" or "Tales of Earthsea", the theme song to that is quite simply, breathtaking. In addition, it sounds really sad, so you can blame that song for making this chapter equally sad.

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 20: Defeat**

The tranquiliser worked to a certain extent. It was only when Yazoo disembarked _Sierra_ did he notice his stomach was doing unusual flips and it was suddenly a struggle to get his feet on the rungs of the ladder. His loss of coordination and nausea could otherwise be explained as a result of seeing the hushed village of Nibelheim. It didn't seem to have changed much since his last visit. The only prominent exception was the absence of a twelve-year-old boy racing ahead of him, making a beeline for the mansion with Souba in his wake.

The aroma of ashes was a smell Yazoo associated with Nibelheim, and it didn't let him down. Although it was faint, there was the knowledge in the back of any visitor's mind that at some point, something had been burning. He was startled to find himself quite cold, despite the visible sunlight filtering through the mountains, shedding jagged shadows across the village.

Tifa was close behind him, opting to maintain the silence, as did Vincent, who had grown an apparent preference in walking a lot further behind. Realising that he was supposed to be leading the way, Yazoo treated the ShinRa mansion to a wary look before saying, "…We left our files in the basement of that building."

Apparently, no one was listening. Vincent was shielding his eyes from the sun, and Tifa's gaze had locked onto a small house to the right of them. Yazoo turned round. From the deck of _Sierra_, Cid watched him sourly.

Yazoo felt as though he was walking to the mansion by himself. Both companions had fallen quiet, lost in their own knowledge and experiences of the ghost town. Perhaps their stories were worse than Yazoo's own.

He pushed open the door to the mansion. The air was stuffy, reinforcing the fact that the act of using the door or windows had not been done for a long time. Yazoo raked his hair nervously; he swore that in the few seconds he had arrived, a layer of dust had already settled on his head. Vincent wedged the door in place by moving an angled splinter of wood with a foot.

Yazoo took the time to study the inside of the grand home. In his last visit, he had taken no notice of the arced windows that lit the staircase, nor did he realise that the walls had once been decorated with rich paintings of Nibelheim scenery. The paintings now rested against the skirting board, forgotten.

Slowly, Yazoo sat on his hunches and raised a finger to scrape the dusty frame. He rubbed two fingers together, watching as the dust fell from between them and fluttered onto the floor. He lowered his head, noting the years of dust and rubbish that had coated the wooden flooring, and standing up again, he lifted a foot. It made a dark print on the wood. Around him, there were various footprints, ranging from large to small, fresh to old. Some headed for the stairs, others made a slight detour and went to the left.

Yazoo licked his lips, afraid to even blink as he scoured them. Maybe, under the layers of grey, if Yazoo was patient enough and searched hard enough, he'd spot the print of a small trainer accompanied by the trail of loose laces – the shoe that had once belonged to a little boy manipulated by unfulfilled promises.

Vincent had started on the stairs. He outstretched his clawed hand to rest on the banister. Momentarily though, at the sight of the filth that had settled onto it over the years, he withdrew his hand into the folds of his cloak. Yazoo looked round for Tifa, realising that she had abruptly disappeared.

"She's outside," Vincent informed him. Yazoo gave a weak smile in thanks. "Let's get you to the basement."

It was a few minutes – as the two were descending the curling steps to the underground rooms – when Yazoo realised that somehow, Vincent knew his way around, and not just in the sense that he was familiar with the basement's location. He was aware of all the light switches. Every door handle he turned was done swiftly and with ease, as though he already knew that the door to the master bedroom had a doorknob that had to be pushed into its original position before using it. Vincent seemed to know that quite a way down, one of the stairs wobbled perilously, and stepped over it with care, having nothing but the hem of his cloak touch it.

Who _was_ Vincent?

Yazoo watched his back with curiosity, never letting his gaze go until Vincent's head looked over a shoulder and asked, "Where about in this basement?"

Yazoo's eyes snapped up to meet Vincent's. "…Further up ahead. There were lots of journals and books kept there."

Vincent's answer was a sweep of his surroundings, pausing briefly – yet somewhat significantly – at a large brown door that branched off from a corridor on their left. It was left half open, but feeling rather unnerved, Yazoo didn't really want to know what was behind the door.

The laboratory-like room went past in a blur. Yazoo had given his everything just to look at the hallway of books rather than the equipment scattered around the sides, glistening every now and then. The walkway connecting the two rooms was narrow, so Vincent waited in the lab, watching from under the shadow of his bandana. Yazoo searched the shelves, trying to recall.

He shifted along some books on the middle shelf. They groaned against the wood. Stretching a hand, Yazoo took out a familiar file and blew on the cover. It was Loz's. He kept a hold on it, studied the other two files, and pulled out his own. The remaining file fell onto its side.

"Do you have everything you need?" asked Vincent.

Yazoo looked back at Kadaj's file, sat by itself. That was now where it belonged. Its owner was never going to read it again.

"…Got everything," Yazoo decided a little loudly, reassuring himself that his decision was right.

He was thankful that Vincent had the same idea to leave the basement right away. They chose the large room to the left of the entrance, where waiting for them was a circular dining table that overlooked what was once perhaps a ballroom.

Yazoo pulled out a chair and sat down. It creaked under his weight; he studied the grand piano from this seat, still recalling. Loz had tried to play a song, sifting through the faded music sheets and failing to understand the notation.

Yazoo opened his file and started to read.

_Weekly Report 12/04 to 18/04: "An Improvement on Vocabulary" by Deanes_

Vincent stood in the centre of the room with his back turned, looking out the window. He cast a long shadow across the carpeted floor, arms folded and neck bent in thought.

_Weekly Report 03/10 to 09/10: "An Introduction to 'Loz'" by Hojo and Warren_

It seemed only weekly reports that were relevent had been kept. Yazoo flicked to the next page. He took hold of his sleeves, hiding eager, hopeful hands.

_Mako Treatment Report 1 (15/10)_

The wrong sort of treatment. He didn't need boosters of things that apparently made him better. He needed something that told him how to stop the clock and save him, save _Loz_.

_Mako Treatment Report 2 (15/12)_

More pages flicked. There were treatment reports after treatment reports, making their way steadily to Report 78, where promptly they stopped. The weekly ones returned.

_Weekly Report 11/10 to 17/10 (regarding outside investigations) by Relson and Gray_

_Weekly Report 18/10 to 24/10 (regarding outside investigations) by Relson and Gray_

They were all saying the same thing. Developments, strange behaviour, new words. Yazoo skimmed the next section of graphs, charts and their analysis. There he was, a mere boy of thirteen, summed up as a pie chart with a colourful key at the bottom.

Pages of solid text were next, printed neatly but with small, rushed handwriting in the margins, jotting down late ideas and corrections. They were speculations, notions about Yazoo and why he was the way he was. Discussions between many professors, as though the reason for Yazoo's existence really mattered.

_Regulations for Termination: Contract_

Yazoo missed a heartbeat. It had information about his termination!

…_prior to any investigations with dangerous attributes…_

Yazoo had to prove Loz wrong…! The trip to Nibelheim was worth it…!

…_it is necessary for signatures of involved head-scientists, designating approval for termination should it apply._

Yazoo reached the bottom of the page. Three signatures. They were all that was there. No possible ways of reversal, not even the scientific method of how a termination was carried out, no information about how to set dates of termination. Nothing.

And then it hit him: that once a termination was lined up, no scientist was ever going to give it a second thought. They would move on and busy themselves with the next experiment.

It was a stupid idea. Loz had been right all along.

Yazoo slammed his hands on the table and swept the folder flying off it. Loose paper shot out and rained down on the floor; the file itself hit the heel of Vincent's foot.

Yazoo's head dropped into his arms and the filth of the tablecloth greeted his cheek, coating it grey. The final sheets of paper touched the ground, and then the silence returned.

He wasn't supposed to live. Loz wasn't supposed to either. They were supposed to live out the rest of their days hopelessly, emptily, rotting from inside like the mansion itself before becoming nothing but a skeleton with fragments of bitter memories and the fear of being forgotten.

"Nibelheim only brings misery, Yazoo."

There was the sound of a chair scraping and the ruffle of clothes. Yazoo forced his eyes to look up. Vincent sat opposite him, his crimson orbs reflecting gravity and the tiniest dash of pity. Yazoo didn't like the look. Right now, he didn't want to be pitied or lectured or given the truth. He wanted to find _something_. Even if it was pointless, or not entirely good news, he couldn't bear the thought of going back to Loz empty-handed. But all he had accomplished was the deepening of his ache for Kadaj.

Everything about the mansion screamed Kadaj to him, calling from the printed floor, the books in the basement, the footstool he had used to reach the higher shelves.

Nibelheim had been the start of everything, but now, it had nothing else to provide.

"…I'm more of an idiot than I thought," Yazoo muttered. "The answer to all this isn't going to be written down on paper, ready for me to find."

Vincent's eyes darted to study the disarrayed file nearby. "Well," he answered, "anything's worth a try."

Yazoo wasn't convinced. He wiped at his face fiercely, rubbing off the dust and leaving a burning sensation on his cheek.

"This mansion hasn't done anything but make me feel worse."

Vincent laughed through his nose, suddenly comprehending and alive. "Many have wasted away in here, exposed to information and secrets. Even people." He leaned forwards, fingers knitting themselves together and propping up his chin. "But what matters is: what are you going to do when you _get out_?"

There was something odd about the way Vincent spoke. His friendly offer of advice sounded quite distant, as if while talking to Yazoo, he was addressing himself as well.

"When I get out…?" Yazoo started. "I'll…have to think of another place to search."

But Vincent wasn't listening. He had got back onto his feet, crossing the room in long strides. He began to pick up the loose sheets of the file. Yazoo was quick to help, rushing over. He took the folder hastily, half embarrassed with his action of throwing it, more so mortified at the thought of Vincent reading about him.

"I shouldn't have thrown it," spluttered Yazoo, realising he was standing on one of the reports, giving it a large shoeprint across its cover. "I just lost my tem--"

"I think I have a file like this somewhere."

Yazoo trailed off. He glanced at the file, and then at Vincent.

"Albeit not as big."

"Wh…what?"

Yazoo swallowed. What was Vincent talking about? Why was he sounding so casual, but looking so serious?

"I believe these are yours." Vincent held out the reports he had collected. Yazoo took them with shaking hands. Did Vincent mean he was an _experiment_? A result of someone superior to them with a lot of free time on his hands?

What _had_ the world done to Vincent?

* * *

**A/N:** End chapter! There's not much to say about this one except that I won't bother with retelling Vincent's past, because everyone knows it, and if you don't, then let's brush up on it! –is aimed more at herself– I got really confused on this chapter anyway. That's what happens when I'm doing mainly description. For those with a sharp eye and knowledge of everything Nibelheim, you might already know where Tifa's gone.

As I've mentioned before, my inbox is flooded with emails, chapter alerts and who knows what else, so it's all very hectic and hence, updates are a bit slow at the moment.

However, I do have some news for you! Since Kuro to Gin is very quickly approaching the end (hoping to end on 32) as well as Ameagari, I'm thinking up new fics, and I would really appreciate it if you could let me know in a review or otherwise what kind of fic you would like next. I've had quite a few reviewers wishing for Kadaj to be back, so yes, it will be a Kadaj fic (and I really feel like writing one too – the guy's dead in this fic and I miss him!). But besides that, do you have a preference, or a hate, even? Would you like YazooTifa on the sidelines and have Yuffentine push off? Is a serious KadajYuffie (another eccentric pairing I like) something you'd like to read?

Anyways, if you could let me know, I'll be a very happy bunny. If you have favourited this fic or alerted it or follow it, please leave a review, even if it's short. Just let me know you're reading :) With that said, I'll see you on the next update!


	21. Spite

**A/N:** Since the previous chapter had very little conversation and action, I really hope this chapter makes up for it! Thank you all for your reviews! Eventually, you'll get to see where I'm going with Vincent and Reno in this. Thanks to anonymous reviewers pet, Sephirothfanboy1, Curry Bird and Clotifan for their reviews. I've got two replies:

**To anonymous reviewer 'pet':** Thanks for pointing out the problems with the first load of chapters. I'll be sure to read through and improve them when I have the time, because they do need a lot of checking over. Thank you for the reviews!

**To Clotifan: **It's a shame you don't like KadajYuffie, but you do have some fair points. Thanks for taking the time to write them down. If anything, I'm glad to hear you like LozYuffie :) I love that pairing too.

**Warning:** I'll also take this opportunity to stress that there'll be some minor suggestive themes from here on, but nothing major, since they'll be put on a different site. I'm aiming to keep this fic 'T', but if you disagree, please let me know and I'll change it.

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 21: Spite**

Yazoo was pretending to be sleeping. He had opted to confine himself in his room, fully clothed and settling under the bedsheets. Several times, Tifa had come in to ask him if he wanted to eat anything, but on all occasions, Yazoo lay still, apparently asleep, covering the telltale signs of half open eyes with his hair and hand. She had closed the door, leaving him in the dark and only the noise of _Sierra_'s engines whirring to soothe his troubled mind.

He was sick to the stomach, even with his travel sickness quelled by the tranquiliser. He wasn't feeling physically sick though, more so _sickened_. It was something no tranquiliser or medicine could get rid of, a sickness unique to Yazoo alone, one caused by the sudden leap from blissful ignorance to the torturous truth. From his darkened thoughts, Vincent spoke to him, retelling and reliving.

"_Sit down. I will tell you everything, and you'll understand."_

Yazoo rolled over to face the wall. He was so sick, so upset…perhaps even frightened. From the moment he had stepped into the mansion, he had wished straight away to go back home. But now, he wanted for nothing more than to stay behind. Nibelheim and his nightmares went hand in hand; he couldn't bear the thought of having to go back, expecting to carry on as normal with the burden of something better left untold.

"_It's a story of over 30 years ago. It's one that you can comprehend to. And if you have any further questions to ask me, I'll answer them quite readily."_

It all made perfect sense, and that was what sent Yazoo's mind reeling. The truth about Vincent, Yuffie and what really held them back. The coffin joke that, in its apparent funniness, had conveyed sadness Yuffie rarely allowed herself to reveal.

Could he go ahead with it? Could he search for a way to save himself and Loz from the fate ShinRa had decided for them, while in the background, Vincent continued to suffer? What gave him the right to be saved over Vincent? And if he did find a cure, would he be happy, knowing Vincent wasn't?

"_I used to be part of the Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department of ShinRa. You're probably more familiar with the word 'Turk'."_

Yazoo chewed a knuckle. He could see Vincent's wistful eyes in his mind, layered with a tinge of regret. How they would suddenly look away from Yazoo, losing their ability to maintain a steady gaze, whenever he mentioned a woman's name. Yazoo remembered his indifference when speaking of how he fell in love, and then without much warning, had his world crash down on him. It appeared that even those who were working for ShinRa in the first place couldn't escape either.

"_I was shot for my interference and kept in the basement. Here, on this table."_

Vincent had shown him around the basement in a similar fashion to a tour guide in a museum. Yazoo hated every minute of it, and even more so as Vincent's past slowly unfolded. He saw the signs of gory experiments, the faintest stains of blood on the floor, depicting the struggle of a man trying to get up; he even saw the coffin itself, cobwebby and frayed around the edges where the half closed lid had left some of the velvet cushion to be eaten by moths.

"_Do you remember the beasts I told you about? You can see some claw marks here. Most of the broken furniture in this house is my fault."_

The story ended with Vincent in the basement's doorway, with Yazoo frozen on the spot, chilled by words rather than the draught of the underground passage. It was clear why Vincent had brought himself along for the trip. To show him the truth. To prove that everything was up to ShinRa company. No searching or wishing or hope could change it.

"_When I said Nibelheim only brought misery…I wasn't lying."_

* * *

Tifa succeeded in her pursuit of Yazoo when they arrived back at the bar. Throughout the flight back from Nibelheim, during the times when Yazoo could no longer get away with feigning sleep, he conversed reluctantly. Not only was he nervous and somewhat lost following Vincent's confession, he picked up on some odd behaviour from Tifa. She seemed eager to steer the topic of conversation away from what she had been doing in Nibelheim. She also refused to explain why she had abruptly handed him a bunch of lilac flowers, only saying flatly, "They were left over."

Yazoo couldn't quite understand, but despite his confusion, he opted to ask no further questions. If Tifa wanted to keep quiet, then that was fine, since (he reminded himself darkly) one Nibelheim story was enough for the time being.

Several things happened in the time it took for Yazoo to walk up the front steps to the door, carrying the flowers and his folder. He was shocked to hear so much shouting coming from inside, Tifa had managed to grab his elbow and knock him off balance, and in the short space of time that Yazoo met Vincent's gaze, he found he couldn't look at him as easily as he used to be able to.

Vincent held the door open; Cid pushed past Yazoo, launching into a long stream of curses and grumbles. It was only after a few moments that Yazoo realised that the pilot was talking to Cloud, who was in the hallway, tying the laces of his boots.

Tifa, still hanging onto him forcefully, took him aside and muttered, "Listen, Vincent doesn't act out of spite." Her eyes made sure no one else was listening, before she added, "He really wants to help you find a way to get better. He didn't tell you his story to dig at you or make you feel worse."

Yazoo wanted to ask Tifa what Vincent's true intention was, because he _had_ succeeded in making him feel worse. He had never pitied anyone so badly but himself and his brothers, but now, that fact had changed. He pitied Vincent. Wished he could do something that would help.

The mixed emotions of horror, sickness and fear wouldn't leave him, and with them, he was in no frame of mind to want to have a lengthy talk with Tifa. He squeezed past her into the bar itself to find a vase for his wilting flowers. He was rather surprised – and guilty – that even hearing Tifa murmur a half-hearted, "I'll go get some coffee for everyone" didn't make him want to run back and talk to her.

The source of laughter and shouting was the bar itself. The chairs and tables had been moved round the edge of the room, and sat in the middle were the children, Yuffie and Loz. Pieces of paper were strewn across the floor, in a very similar way to how Yazoo's folder had done so, but instead of graphs and reports, there were drawings upon drawings. Yazoo recognised some to be Loz's because of the way the hands looked more like giant bits of popcorn.

Marlene was exchanging marker pens with Arthur. Denzel was complaining about how Erica had ruined his drawing. One way or another, the children were playing, making a creative mess, and sat in the middle of the floor were Loz and Yuffie, drawing not on paper, but on each other.

Yuffie seemed intent on making as much noise as possible, laughing (bordering on screaming) hysterically. Loz was fumbling for the mirror on the floor, shouting only inches away from Yuffie's face.

"A dog! Dogs don't have freckles!"

Yazoo quirked a brow, ducked under the counter and took out a vase. He reached for the tap, but another hand got there first.

"Vincent doesn't want you to feel sorry for him. If anything, he wants you to fight. To _not_ end up like him."

Tifa filled up the vase, put in the flowers and set it aside, effectively leaving nothing to distract Yazoo. She rummaged around for the coffee, knocking his elbow out the way.

"Hey Tifa, you're back!" Marlene had scrambled onto her feet. Several other children followed suit, throwing aside their pens and paper. Tifa walked round the counter to embrace them. Yazoo saw this as an opportunity to escape (both from Tifa and Loz, whose overly cheerful mood was getting annoying), but he stopped in his tracks when Tifa snapped impatiently, "No, don't run away."

Yazoo turned round. Tifa's uncharacteristic anger seemed to have punctured what would have been a warm welcome back hug from the children. Even Yuffie and Loz had stopped laughing, looking up from their drawing. Yazoo only just noticed how they were in such close proximity to each other; how Yuffie, on her knees, was only steadied by a hand resting on Loz's knee as she drew. Yazoo supposed that from the way she leaned forwards to draw on him, Loz had a very good view of down her top.

"…Hey, uh, had a good trip Tifa?" Yuffie called over. "I didn't know you were in the bar. Hi Yazoo," she added. Yazoo gave a weak wave in response, concentrating more on resisting the urge to laugh at her face.

"What _has _Loz done to you, Yuffie?" Tifa asked the question that had been bugging Yazoo. There were prominent whiskers on each of Yuffie's cheeks, complete with dark rings around her eyes. Her nose had even been coloured pink.

"Well, I'm a cat, aren't I," Yuffie stated, shrugging her shoulders as though it was obvious. Yazoo gave Loz a pointed look, but it went unnoticed, for the older brother was very interested in anything but Yazoo's eyes. "I drew on Loz by accident, and we just got a bit carried away," concluded Yuffie. She got onto her feet, standing akimbo.

"And what's Loz meant to be?" Tifa looked over Denzel's shoulder. Yazoo stared at his brother's now freckled face, complete with a black eye and nose.

"A dog with freckles," mumbled Loz. "Yuffie can't draw."

"They've been playing with each other all day," Owen said tiredly, sounding rather disappointed. "And the whole of yesterday. I swear at one point, Yuffie called him 'Lozzy'."

"I did not! Brat!" Yuffie spat with sudden fury.

"What kind of name is that anyway?" interjected Loz. His gaze met Yazoo's at last, expecting for some kind of support from him as well. However, Yazoo found that he couldn't take his brother seriously at all with such a stupid face on. What seemed more annoying was that Loz was making no effort to wipe it off either. Yazoo turned his back to him and watched the kettle boil. Behind him, everyone continued to talk. Yuffie and Loz stood out the most, though that could have been due to their loud voices or Yazoo only listening to what he wanted to.

"Anyway, while you two were gone, we took great care of the kids, just like you asked us," Yuffie declared. "We tidied the living room for you, made paper cranes and paper chains…"

"Though that made loads of mess and we had to spend the rest of the afternoon clearing up," chipped in Loz. "And Cloud had some local deliveries, so we helped him with those."

"You couldn't do much with that arm of yours though."

"I'll have you know that I can move three fingers now."

"That's great to hear," Tifa commented lightly. "Your arm will be better in no time."

Yazoo was only half-listening. He personally found the wisps of steam far more interesting. When the kettle had finished boiling, he got out the milk, several mugs and a tray. Perhaps he was being so sour because Loz had had a fun time, and he hadn't. Maybe he was still a bit in shock after the whole trip. It might've even been Tifa's optimism that was infuriating him.

Marlene's voice suddenly piped up from behind him. "Is Yazoo upset, Tifa? He doesn't look very happy."

Yazoo stopped making the coffee, startled. When he turned round, all eyes were on him and Tifa, who was knelt down with the children. Loz shifted from foot to foot awkwardly.

"I'm not upset," Yazoo stated clearly. "I was thinking. Zoned out again."

Marlene was unconvinced, crossing her arms. Yuffie arched her eyebrows. Determined to make at least one cup of coffee, Yazoo turned back round.

"Yazoo's not upset," Tifa spoke firmly. "We just need to talk, that's all. Right, since Uncle Cid's round, you'll need to clear up before he starts to complain."

There were the sounds of paper shuffling and the clatters of marker pens. Yazoo counted on his fingers just exactly how many cups of coffee they were requiring.

"Seven," Tifa answered for him, setting down an extra two mugs. "We've got quite a lot of company today. There's lots to talk about. Poor Cid must be so tired from all that piloting…"

She stopped talking for a moment, eyeing him. Then, she muttered, "Look. If you give up, what am I supposed to do? Give up too?"

The sudden change in conversation was obvious, although by the way Tifa sounded, she had meant to tell him for a while. Her stern face melted away, giving him an insight into a frail, bothered woman. He looked back guiltily. Within moments, Tifa had sniffed loudly, flinging her arms round his neck and pulling him into a rushed, uncomfortable hug that was her height. Her grip was strong and desperate, and the kiss on his cheek was lacking affection, headed by worry.

He realised he could no longer ignore her. It wasn't fair at all. She was so firm in finding a cure for him, and Vincent was apparently the same. It was still a wonder as to why they cared so much for him, considering his origins and actions.

He mumbled an apology, wondering whether Tifa had even heard it. Over Tifa's shoulder, he noticed Owen was nudging Denzel's ribs, pointing. Loz and Yuffie smiled awkwardly, and the latter said loudly, "We're uh…going to wash our faces. We look a bit silly."

Tifa withdrew from Yazoo, regaining her usual composure, clearing her throat and fussing over the coffee again. She got some juice for the children, and with an awkward gesture since she was busy carrying a tray, she asked for him to follow.

"Um, by the way, Yazoo," she said in an undertone, watching Loz go into the living room, "Cid doesn't know about us."

"Right." Yazoo caught on immediately. As he headed for the hallway, he noticed that the stem of one of the flowers was not quite touching the water in the vase. He paused, letting Tifa go on ahead. He poked the flower further in. Satisfied, he went into the living room. Unsurprisingly, it was Cid who was leading the conversation.

"– straight to Nibelheim and back…not a word! No 'thank you' or anything grateful!"

"It's not like you were making it easy for him," Vincent supplied, accepting a coffee from Tifa with his good hand. Yazoo sat down in the armchair slightly apart from the others. When Yuffie came in, Yazoo swore he saw her give a defiant lift of the chin, aimed at Vincent. Nobody else seemed to notice this, and thankfully, no one really acknowledged him either.

The conversation over coffee unfolded quickly, hopping from stories to stories, a lot of which Yazoo had no idea about, confirming his idea that he had only been brought along out of pity. Loz did his best, Yazoo had to admit, asking questions and talking with Yuffie, but he was treated to fierce glares from Cid whenever his mouth opened.

Tifa left the room a long time after the coffee had ran out; Yazoo didn't think much of it. He was absorbed in his daydreams (consisting of Loz's pen-drawn face, an experimental basement and a piano) to really take notice of anything going on around him. However, when Tifa came back, she addressed him.

"There's a telephone call for you, Yazoo."

It was mainly curiosity that took Yazoo from his chair to the phone upstairs. Who would telephone 7th Heaven and ask for him? What business did anyone have with him?

He guessed the answer as soon as he picked up the handset. The sound of a deep inhale of smoke confirmed it.

"Hello Reno," Yazoo said dully.

"Hey," came the answer. "How was Nibelheim?"

Yazoo frowned. He doubted he could explain over the phone, let alone to Reno, how he found Nibelheim. He answered with a, "…Not useful."

"Oh well, worth a shot. Bring along whatever you managed to recover to lunch tomorrow. I'm on duty then, and since it's my duty to watch _you_, I'm inviting you to a Turk's lunch."

Yazoo knew that Reno was grinning, even if he couldn't see it. There was something about the way he spoke that pointed straight to it.

"Your job is to watch me?"

"Part of ShinRa's service. Emotional support, random ideas, a simple chat – it's all in the bag. You know where The Hare is? Never mind, ask Tifa. 1 'o' clock sharp at Hare. How does it sound? Lot better than hanging round 7th Heaven again."

"…Sure," Yazoo muttered, "if you're so anxious to see me. A bit short notice…"

"We're on a tight schedule."

"_Yes_," Yazoo said impatiently, "but I've only just got back. How did you know when to ring?"

A chuckle. "Oh come on Yazoo. Since when does an airship pass unnoticed?"

* * *

**A/N:** I'm getting into the swing of the next chapter already. I was set on that chapter long before this one. This was a struggle to get through, but hey, it's done. Next chapter is all about Reno and his motives as to why he's being so nice to Yazoo.

I'll also thank people who submitted ideas/hates/requests for my next fic. It's a Kadaj fic, but with no romance save for mild YazooTifa. As always, I would really appreciate a review from you :) Thanks for taking the time to read!


	22. Honesty

**A/N:** See, this chapter's up much more promptly than before –pats self on back– I had great fun writing this scene.

**To 'Clotifan': **Thanks for your reviews! I'm no humour/parody writer, so it'll be a serious fic with the occasional joke (like this fic). To be honest, I've never really noticed Kadaj's butt size/abnormality – I suppose it is something humour writers will pick at. And a pairing we agree on – LozxYuffie! Glad to hear you like it :)

**To 'to lazy to log in':** Thanks for reviewing! Your support for LozxYuffie is very much appreciated! You're another who's noticed Kadaj more than I have – he is curvy, but I think he still passes off very much as a bloke.

Right, enough chat about Kadaj and his butt. Please enjoy this chapter, and read the A/N at the end :)

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 22: Honesty**

Lunch with Reno was probably not an excuse Cloud was expecting. The blonde tapped the heel of a foot behind him on the stair, frowning. Yazoo waited patiently.

"Oh…right then," he finally answered. "No problem."

"Is business a bit hectic today?" Yazoo asked. He did up his shoes, getting on a knee. Above, Cloud surveyed him through his messy bangs, still keeping a frown on his face.

"No. Not really. Thought it would be a good idea for you to come along, since Loz has already."

Yazoo was in no position to refuse an opportunity to get along better with Cloud. However it was unfortunate that at the same time, he was meant to meet up with Reno. It was an overwhelming feeling, being wanted and asked to come along to all sorts of things, whether it was a Turk lunch, delivery service or Yuffie's paper chain class.

He had rescheduled his class with Yuffie for the evening – something he was looking quite forward to. It looked like fun, and was a great way to pass time, according to Loz (who gushed on and on about it last night). Yazoo had absently wondered if Loz had something to do with Yuffie's cheerful self, considering Vincent was refusing point-blank to even look at her.

"I'm always free tomorrow," suggested Yazoo to Cloud. He stood up again, wriggling his feet into his shoes. Cloud gave a curt nod. Though they were still seemingly rocky, Cloud didn't look too offended, and on the contrary, he took a cap off the hat stand, giving it a slight shake.

"You don't want to get noticed. Not unless you want to pick a fight."

"Thanks." Yazoo gratefully took it and stuck it on his head, hiding his mop of silver. He took the long strands at the nape of his neck and hid them under his collar. It tickled, but it was worth it. He checked his reflection, and was pleased to see he didn't stand out as much. Yuffie, however, voiced a different opinion.

"Wow. You look like a really suspicious thug."

"Do I?"

"You'll fit right in then," Cloud remarked. He gave a pointed jerk of the head to the door. "You best leave now or else you won't get there on time."

Yazoo did so, smiling at Yuffie's farewell as she leaned out the doorway ("Paper chain class! 3:00 sharp, okay! If you're late, I'll get Loz to sock you one!"). Walking without people staring felt good; even if he looked (and felt) stupid, it was a reasonable price to pay for the chance to blend in.

Strangely, Reno seemed to think he blended into the crowd of The Hare. Thinking he was impossible to be seen by Yazoo with his bright red hair, cheesy grin and loud mouth, he gave a hearty wave and shouted across the pub, "Yazoo! Over here!"

Yazoo rolled his eyes. "I _know_," he grumbled. Quite a few people, of which there was probably none named 'Yazoo', looked round disapprovingly at Reno. He weaved through two snooker tables, apologising to a man he hit unintentionally in the ribs with his folder, and edged along a row of seats, sitting opposite the Turk.

Reno stubbed out his cigarette with one hand, and used the other to gesture towards the file Yazoo held.

"Come on, let's have a look."

Deft fingers turned the dog-eared pages, eyes skimming the sheets of black and white for important details. Yazoo guessed it had become second nature to scour paperwork for the Turk, poring over page after page, life after life.

Then, Yazoo realised something. Watching Reno peruse his file didn't mortify him. It didn't even hurt or initiate some sort of nervous fidgeting. Considering the efforts and embarrassment he had gone through to keep his file shut around Vincent, he assumed that being around Reno would initiate a similar reaction, but it was an oddly placid atmosphere. The Turk made the occasional rumbling sound in his throat, thinking and musing. Perhaps Yazoo had embarked on a defeatist attitude, no longer caring or minding whatever happened to him now, unattached to anything, unburdened with false hope. He could at least thank Vincent for this serenity.

"Hmm," Reno said after a few minutes. He leaned back in his seat, beckoning for a waiter's attention. "You said this biography of yours is useless?"

"Course it is," Yazoo answered dully. "That page you're on at the moment has three paragraphs' worth of examining my eyes."

"The things people waste their time on, eh." Reno flicked open the lid of his cigarettes. "No offence to your eyes or anything," he added.

Yazoo offered a wan smile.

"Still, no worries, it's definitely a start. Once we read in detail, something will crop up. I mean, come on, how much more info can you get?"

It was perhaps the one thing Yazoo especially liked about Reno: his ability to be frank. Yazoo had no difficulty in swallowing everything the Turk said.

Regardless of how improbable or empty-hearted the words were, Reno always sounded reassured. It was curious as to why the redhead was intent on helping, so, leaning forwards with the hope that his long stretch of unhappiness could be quelled, he asked, "Why?"

Just then, two large mugs of beer clunked onto the table.

Reno looked affronted. "Why? I don't know what Tifa's been teaching you, but if you go in a pub, you need to drink."

He downed his beer with the makings of an expert, oblivious to Yazoo rolling his eyes. The empty mug was slammed down not long afterwards.

"What I mean is," he tried again, "why are you so keen on helping me. Loz and me – we don't matter to you. Whether we live or die doesn't affect you."

"Sure it does." Reno took a long drag from his cigarette. "Your good behaviour encourages people to put faith back in ShinRa."

Yazoo stopped picking at his sleeve. "What?"

"I work for ShinRa, remember?" Reno smiled amusedly. "In order to rebuild the company, we need to gain trust."

"Well, you won't be getting that with me," insisted Yazoo. He traced the inner curve of his beer mug's handle. "I'm just your average bartender."

"You'll be surprised how quickly information travels, especially regarding Cloud Strife. Not to mention – " Here, the mischief in Reno's went up a notch " – your brother is always in the company of the Princess of Wutai. To put it simply, you and Loz are proving to people that ShinRa are correcting their mistakes, slowly but surely. You are helping to set down the company's first few steps to recovery. Not bad, huh?"

The combination of the indifference in the Turk's voice and his own sour mood struck a nerve. The thought of actually aiding the company that, in Yazoo's opinion, didn't deserve it at all, was quite simply shocking. If he had any choice, he'd steer clear as much as he could from the company, but it appeared that even his new start since Kadaj had died had been directed by ShinRa in the background.

"You're using me," he said hollowly.

"Not if you agree to help I'm not."

"Why would I agree? What makes you think I want to help get ShinRa back?" Yazoo crossed his arms defiantly. "I can't understand why you care so much about it."

He thought of himself and his brothers at the lab. And then of Vincent. Would _anyone_ want that back? And to add insult to injury, _aid_ in its revival?

Yazoo gave Reno a glare, highly offended. The hopes of a nice day out were fading fast, and he was settling into that familiar rhythm of doom and gloom.

"That's reasonable – to be wary of us," Reno agreed. "The termination drug is a mistake on our part. Originally, we were going to use you for a good few months or so and then move onto something else to reinforce ShinRa's image. But I guess you had more of an effect than we planned for. You know," he added, "when you furrow your eyebrows like that, you look an awful lot like Loz."

"Where did that come from?"

"Just saying."

"Well, don't."

They lapsed into silence. Yazoo examined his beer mug. Reno took it as an opportunity to finish his cigarette. It was several long minutes before he abruptly lean forwards across the table, a jutting elbow knocking a coaster out of the way.

"Okay, got it. You say you can't understand why ShinRa matters? Let's put it in a way you might understand. If there was a chance to bring Kadaj back, wouldn't you take it?"

Was he kidding? What kind of question was that?

"Look at your face. You don't even need to think about it. Course you would." He raised an instructive finger. "Now replace the word 'Kadaj' with 'ShinRa', and that's Yazoo-Mentality changed to Reno-Mentality. With me so far?"

He tilted his chair onto its hind legs, arching over the back rest to stretch and nearly knocking the head of the man behind him. Reno craned his neck, apparently searching for something. As quickly as he had done so, he turned his attention back to Yazoo.

"Now, just as you can't understand why ShinRa matters to me, I can't understand why an impudent arsehole of a brother matters so much to you."

"Kadaj and ShinRa. Our lives are parallel in that sense. We can't understand, but we can – at least – relate." The chair fell onto all four legs with a loud thump. "You know all about second chances, right? Rufus is really trying here. He wants to come clean too."

Reno looked confused for a brief moment. Then, he flashed a grin and said, "Phew! After all that convincing of mine and your undivided attention, I say we deserve another drink."

Aquamarine eyes rested on Yazoo's untouched beer. Yazoo snapped out of his thoughts of ShinRa.

"…I don't usually drink."

"It's a great way to make you feel better," answered Reno. The Turk was pushing him, but had done it so tactfully, knowing that Yazoo was in need of a pick-me-up, that accusing him wouldn't sound right.

He clasped the mug and downed it like how Reno had done. Or he tried to. It wasn't a warming drink like the tea Tifa made for him; it was bitter on his tongue and swallowing it watered his eyes. He choked, set the mug down and did his best to hide his look of disgust.

Reno had collapsed immediately, banging a fist on the table, sending trembles. He spluttered into his arms, doubling up.

"Hell, I think I've found my new drinking partner!" he managed to choke out from between his laughs. He gripped his stomach, gasping and contracting his eyebrows, which gave off the impression that he was in pain. His head suddenly jerked up.

"Rude!" he shouted across the bar. "Over here! You just missed the highlight of my day!"

To Yazoo's dismay, Rude and Elena were making their way to the table, their crisp suits a stark contrast to Reno's scruffy look. The latter sat down next to him, offering a grudging wave of the hand as a greeting. Yazoo should've guessed that a Turk lunch was going to have quite a big turnout. He switched from placid thoughts about Tifa to devising a quick getaway.

Reno was busy retelling Yazoo's first attempt at drinking to his colleagues. It was somewhat relieving to see that neither Rude nor Elena found it as hilarious as the redhead did. On the contrary, Rude gave him a side glance and said, "If you want him to leave you alone, you could have just said so."

"Rude, he _agreed_ to come out with me!"

"What did you do that for?" Elena rolled her eyes. Yazoo, finding that whatever he said wouldn't quite be appropriate for a Turk's conversation, simply plastered a weak smile on his face and stared at his mug. Across the bar, a group of youths looked over their drinks at Reno irritably, annoyed with his loudness.

"Anyway Rude, you're supposed to be telling me about Junon. What's this about Tseng staying with the President and you having to come back?" Reno got a bartender's attention and signalled for more drinks (Yazoo inwardly groaned at this – he was going to choke in front of three people now).

"I've got things to sort out here," Rude replied. "Tseng's got business in Junon."

"And did Rufus…?" Reno raised his eyebrows significantly. His voice suddenly fell to little above a whisper. Shaking her blonde head, Elena replied lowly, "You know how picky he is."

"Ah, yeah…" Reno mused. Next to him, Rude gave a contemplative nod. Then, the three remembered that Yazoo was there.

"Have you spoken to Yazoo about ShinRa?" asked Elena.

"Course." Reno wagged a finger, nodding importantly. "He's about as knowledgeable as us now. Took a bit of swaying, since – quite obviously – his past experiences of ShinRa made him a bit unsure."

"It's not that." Yazoo interrupted him, speaking for the first time since Rude and Elena's arrival. The three faltered, mirroring confused expressions. "It's…" he started. "I don't really care about myself and the labs anymore. I started off bad, and now I'm reasonably happy. But Vincent's the opposite."

The response was unexpected, partly because even Rude managed a groan, but mainly because it was Elena who was upfront about what she thought.

"What did I tell you, Rude? I told you that bastard was going to meddle." She crossed one leg over with such annoyance, her knee bashed against the table, rattling their drinks. "That man's so firm in not changing, immortality actually _suits_ him. He's set on the idea that ShinRa will never change, and he's making you, Yazoo, turn against us."

"Isn't that a bit paranoid? I wasn't under that impression when he told me." Yazoo took a tentative sip of his beer, realising that he was suddenly thirsty. It still tasted awful.

"Well, he probably was trying to assure you," decided Reno. "In his own weird way of course. By hearing his tale, you might feel sorry for him and more inclined to save yourself and Loz."

"Doubtful," Elena objected. "You don't know what you're talking about, Reno. Vincent doesn't need someone to feel sorry for him, he does that very well by himself."

They launched into a small argument across the table. Over Reno's head, Yazoo caught eye contact with Rude (his sunglasses anyway).

"I think that by telling you," Rude said clearly, "he trusts you."

It was only Yazoo who heard it. He took the words to heart, sinking into his chair and his thoughts. Of course. To be so open and honest…even if it was no happy tale, it pointed straight to trust.

His whole sullen mood initiated by his trip to Nibelheim was so stupid. For someone with limited days, he really knew how to waste them Yazoo had taken out his bad mood on Tifa, refusing to play with the children and deeming Loz as an idiot for having the time of his life.

"Okay, point taken," Reno was saying. "That still doesn't explain why Vincent told clone boy here his story. He's blatantly jealous of Tifa and him. Vincent messed with ShinRa and got his punishment. Yazoo did the same thing and gets a girlfriend. Vincent's meddling to make Yazoo leave Tifa."

"Really," Elena muttered. She arched a blonde brow at Rude, who, apparently, found no words to answer to Reno's stupidity.

"Think from the guy's position. Yazoo's a _Sephiroth clone_. And who's Sephiroth? He's the guy who killed Tifa's father. Where's the logic in them dating? Why are they allowed to be together, while Vincent and Lucrecia aren't? And see those idiots over there?" Reno suddenly steered onto another topic. "They're continually staring at us. Do they _want_ to pick a fight or something?"

"Sounds like you're the one doing the picking," remarked Rude.

"Yeah well, why not?" Reno grumbled. "Turks, a Sephiroth clone and a bunch of morons. That'd be a good showdown."

"Which category do you fit in, Reno?" Elena smiled dryly, finishing her drink and casting a suspicious glance at Yazoo's.

Yazoo switched off. In fact, he had spaced out ages ago. The bar was abruptly cold, the Turks left him out of the conversation again. He could only think of Tifa, how she had said she knew Sephiroth.

Yes, she knew him, but not in that way…she only knew him from a _distance_…he had heard Reno wrong. If her connection to Sephiroth was as important as that, she would've _told_ him.

"Oh bugger," Reno said, seeing Yazoo's face. He sounded miles away. "I've just blabbed. She never told you, did she?"

Elena's remark pretty much summed up what Yazoo thought.

"How rude."

* * *

**A/N:** Any chapter goes smoothly when I have Yuffie or Reno in it. It must because they're so carefree, I'm not really sure. Anyway, as mentioned before, this (hopefully) went well – I wasn't tearing my hair out over it, so that must be a good sign!

Next chapter will be a special one for you guys, which shall be up on 20th October, celebrating my 19th. It's split into two parts. I needed a filler or something that's a bit lighthearted, so it'll be a hinting-majorly-at-LozYuffie chapter, since oddly, more readers seem to like that rather than KadajxYuffie as stated in reviews. The second half **will not be on this site**. More info next update :)

While I'm here, I'll just do a bit of advertising for Stradivari and point you all to Genesis Awards, which, as its name suggests, is an event that will give recognition to the high quality fics of Final Fantasy 7. It would be really helpful and appreciated if you could pay a visit and support it. We could also do with judges, but Strad knows more about that than I do. I'll be sticking a link up in my profile, so I hope you'll take a look at it.

With all that said, I'll end with asking you to leave a review – I'm not sure if Chap. 21 was boring or what, but it seemed to have a lack of reviews for some reason, and I'm really hoping this fic isn't getting tiring. Either way, comments/reviews would make me very happy :)


	23. Eternity Part 1

**A/N:** Hiya everyone – to celebrate my lifeless birthday, we have a double chapter, with the second half hosted somewhere else. Also, Ameagari looks like it may be updated soon, with its chapter nearly done!! –cries with joy–

Information about part 2 will be at the end, since there's no point talking about it now. Thanks to everyone who reviewed this chapter, I'll get back to you with replies if I haven't done so yet. As for now, please enjoy Part 1 of Chapter 23 of Part 2 of Kuro to Gin. –blinks- I think that makes sense.

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 23, Part 1: Eternity**

It was Cloud's eyes that said it all. The eager shouting, peals of laughter and the colossal rumbling of paper summed up in three simple words: _don't say anything_.

8 pm on the dot. Yazoo had come back to 7th Heaven, ready for his paper chain class, and it was a good job Cloud had nothing to say, for Yazoo seriously doubted he'd be able to hear him. Loz and Yuffie were conducting an orchestra of noise, encouraging the children (and Cid, who shot fierce glares at anyone who looked at him) to be louder than them and paying no mind to the mess on the floor.

Long chains of paper were strewn from the ceiling to the floor, swinging off the light and trailing over the sofa. Loz was decorated with a long garland of green and blue, busying himself with Yuffie's red one. Behind him, Marlene was apparently placing a paper chain crown on his head.

Between her laughs, Yuffie hyperventilated a 'welcome back' to Yazoo, beckoning for him to come over. Loz suddenly snorted, and in a matter of seconds, Yuffie's attention diverted from Yazoo back to Loz. She took one look of the mass of green paper on his head and rolled onto the floor, howling. Marlene giggled, exchanging looks with Owen.

"Loz!" Yuffie gasped. She clutched her stomach so tightly, she looked in pain. "You should totally have green hair!"

Yazoo personally didn't think paper chains were particularly funny. Cloud arched a brow, saying to him in an undertone, "Seriously. They act as if each others' faces are the most hilarious thing in the world."

"Don't you want to join in?" Erica called over. She shook a chain, which seemed to shake the whole room.

Loz grinned. "Hmm. I'd say Yazoo's dying to try on that gold chain."

Yuffie collapsed into giggles again, but this time, at Yazoo's expense. Clearly, there was some sort of private joke between the two about the gold chain. He waited with wearing patience for the laughter to die down.

"No, no," Yuffie managed, waving with her arm again. "Leave Yazoo alone, he's done nothing wrong. Come here, Yazoo. I'll teach you how to make them."

Cloud coughed. Giving a pointed look to the ringleaders of paper chain making in turn, he asked, "What are you going to do with them all once you've finished?"

Loz looked to Yuffie for an answer. Their response was predictable, and Cloud could only watch, still managing to uphold his unimpressed face, as the pair cracked up again. It was evident they hadn't even thought of Cloud's question, let alone the answer to it.

It was Tifa who politely put them back on track. She greeted Yazoo with a sweep of her hand down his back. "Isn't it time for your paper chain class Yuffie? I think everyone's here."

"Gawd! I completely forgot!"

She was quick to set up her class, which incidentally, only consisted of Yazoo. Yuffie shooed Cloud away with a rude "No stiffs in this room!". Nearby, Tifa read to Marlene, and Loz dozed off in the armchair, taking an afternoon nap. It appeared that his brother's shin was comfortable, for Yuffie leaned against it, sat at his feet with a bundle of paper chains in her lap. As she worked and increased the string of loops, she'd toss them past her shoulder and over Loz's knee.

The uncomfortable knot writhing in Yazoo's stomach was not initiated by his anger of Tifa or the stress of finding a cure. It was awkward to see the small signs of affection. For one thing, Loz had suggested wanting for Yuffie and Vincent to accept each other and get together.

Well, Yazoo scoffed mentally, his brother had done a fine job of _that_. It was almost as though Vincent was non-existent. As if Yuffie's crush on Vincent was just that: a passing crush.

His annoyance in knowing very little these days sparked off another irrational sulk. Although Rude's sensible remark about trust made him realise that there was no point in sulking, he couldn't help it.

Right now, however, he felt he _had_ a point. The irritability was uncontrollable, annoyed with Loz taking everything into his stride, and especially how Tifa smiled at him, as if nothing was wrong.

In his frustration, he ripped a strip of paper he was about to loop. It was an unexpected sound, and rather loud, since the low murmuring of Tifa reading was the only sound in the room. Marlene giggled at the sight of Yazoo's torn shred of paper. Loz snorted uncooperatively.

Yazoo's mood lasted all the way through dinner. He set up the table, which personally, he thought would create a good impression on Cid, but all he got was a gruff, "Why you got spoons out? We don't need them!" and a scowl.

Cloud was equally grumpy with him, presumably insulted (but hiding it) by the fact that Yazoo had chosen to go out with Reno than with him. In fact, the sole consolation Yazoo had to lighten his mood was Marlene, who lifted his temper marginally when she told him his hair didn't deserve to be hidden by a cap. She had since then confiscated the item of clothing from him.

Loz and Yuffie, to his dismay, joined in the washing up. They joked and teased, knocking elbows and exchanging silly faces.

"You two make a good pair," commented Tifa. "You're constantly having a laugh."

Yazoo could sense the hint of a jab directed at him, but still he persisted in his silence and avoidance of anyone's gaze.

"I need a laugh," Loz replied. He carefully stacked away some dishes with his good arm. "I've grown up with Kadaj and Yazoo as my brothers."

He put emphasis on the names, prompting Yuffie to say, "Meaning…?"

"Well, the pair are constantly like this." Loz furrowed his eyebrows into one, sticking out his lower lip to give an expression of seriousness, though in Yazoo's opinion, and since he was feeling grouchy, he thought Loz looked like someone who was having a hard time in thinking.

"Kadaj never found things funny," mused the older brother. "Well, he found the wrong things amusing. Actually, I'd say his sense of humour was really warped. And you already know what Yazoo's like."

"Kadaj's sense of humour wasn't warped." Yazoo didn't bother to look up from the plate he was scrubbing clean. "He just didn't find your jokes particularly funny."

Yazoo quite effectively passed his sullen mood onto Loz. The older brother finished tidying away the dishes and left with an unmistakeable look of hurt on his face.

Yazoo couldn't get out of his fierce mood, as much as he regretted being so spiteful to Loz. His belief that he had the right to be angry stopped him from apologising, and by the time he had come to his senses, after the bar had closed, Loz was fast asleep. Gone to bed without waiting for him or even saying goodnight.

Someone had helped him to dress in his pyjamas. Someone had squeezed the toothpaste out for him. In a simple act of kindness, Yuffie had outsmarted Yazoo with no trouble at all, leaving him in the corridor as a grouchy, vicious being best avoided.

Yazoo cursed Yuffie and his brother. Cursed Tifa. Cursed Reno and his laughable propositions of rescuing ShinRa. And lastly, he cursed himself: for being so obstinate and selfish. He didn't seem to be able to do anything right anymore.

A reeling mind of confusion, thoughts and annoyance meant that he couldn't expect to get much sleep that night. The emptiness of the bar was inviting – the ground floor was void of people, all of whom were sound asleep in their bedrooms, unaware of a restless clone scouring under the counter for something to drink.

He settled for one he had seen Vincent take a glass from; he recognised it by the peeling red label. He was going to see if Reno's statement of drinking being a good pick-me-up was true, regardless of the taste and absurdity of sitting up at night with only a drink for company.

Yazoo made himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room, taking up three seats as he stretched his legs. The drink tasted sweet but odd, and it was somewhat relaxing, feeling it tingle on his tongue, disappear, and then come back when he took another sip.

How long he spent with his glass, musing in silence, Yazoo himself did not know. Whatever the case, he wasn't expecting for the door to swing open, revealing Tifa in the doorway, still dressed in her normal clothes. There was no smile on her face.

"If it's just me you're angry with, you shouldn't take it out on Loz." She crossed the room, joined him on the sofa, moving his legs to rest over her lap. "Or anyone else, really. Yuffie's been asking about you. I was talking to her earlier."

"How do you know it's just you?" Yazoo asked sullenly.

"I can tell," she answered. "What's been bothering you all these days?"

"I was all right to start off with." He peered into his glass. Tifa's gaze was surprisingly level, and Yazoo found he couldn't quite meet it. "I accepted everything in Nibelheim, Vincent telling me…about himself…I accepted the fact I was wrong and Loz was right. Heck, I even considered Reno's suggestions for helping ShinRa. But it's too much when he said…"

He straightened up, letting his legs slide off Tifa. "Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured. He realised he had been wanting to ask her this ever since he had come back from lunch. "That Sephiroth killed your father?"

She still watched him steadily, like she had known he'd ask. "…I didn't think it was important," she replied, keeping a soft tone that sparked off something angry in Yazoo.

"Not important? I'm his clone! Of course it's important! We've been…_you've_ been…us…"

"I didn't think it'd make you this inarticulate."

"It's not funny, Tifa."

She stopped knitting her fingers together. They battled with serious gazes, waiting for the other to back down. Yazoo wasn't able to believe it. Couldn't she see he was hurt? It was no time for humour.

"You should've told me," he accused through his teeth. Tifa was unfazed.

"What would you do anyway, if I had told you earlier? All you would've done is distance yourself from me."

A fair point, but Yazoo wasn't going to admit it as being right. "…You still should've told me. Something as important as that…When you said you knew Sephiroth, I didn't think it'd be this bad. And it all makes sense now – what you were doing in Nibelheim, why you went round by yourself…"

Tifa's face softened; she almost looked as though she regretted being so aloof. Her hand clasped his glass and set it aside firmly, telling him with no words to stop his resolve to drink.

"It's not something I can randomly stick into a conversation. And to tell you the truth, it didn't even occur to me. To tell you. Not before we went to Nibelheim."

Yazoo didn't like it when she spoke like that, addressing her knees, voice layered with frankness, honesty and a touch of remorse.

"…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so accusing."

"That's okay."

She heaved a sigh and leaned against him in defeat. Chin angled upwards, sleepy eyes studied him from behind lashes stuck together with mascara.

"What did your father do? To anger Sephiroth, I mean."

Tifa laughed hollowly, gesturing for him to take her hand. She seemed keen on focusing her attention on entwining their fingers rather than answering his question.

"…Do you think Sephiroth would be that logical? Do you think you _needed _to give him a reason? You never knew him, I suppose. He was irrational. And so was I."

She gave that grim laugh again, piercing Yazoo somewhere in his gut. To see her look so lifeless made him instantly regret being so accusing. Yet she carried on talking, still focused on their hands, unenthusiastic in her recollection of events.

"I was out of my mind. I thought I could hurt him." She exhaled through her nose, accompanied by a bitter pursing of her lips. "With his _own sword_. I've even got a mark to remind me how stupid I can be."

She was so toneless and so still, Yazoo wasn't expecting it at all. Her back pushed off his chest abruptly, and she swivelled round, lifting up the base of her top.

And there, cut across what would have been a perfect midriff, was a two inch scar, arching over her navel. He could only stare. And let his horror bubble within him.

She sensed his discomfort, and lowered the dark fabric of her top, intoning, "…I'm still a bit self conscious about it."

Yazoo pondered for a moment, and then, adopting the best reassuring voice he could, he said to her, "It's not that obvious."

Tifa gave him an exhausted smile, giving the impression she had heard it all before. She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling before settling back against him. He smiled apologetically, feeling the unpleasant guilt that lingered in the back of his mind. Why did he have to be so angry with her? She'd been through enough.

"Have you got any other surprises concerning you and Sephiroth?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too accusing. He meant it as a joke, after all. And he was about as capable of making jokes as well as Cloud was able to. "I might as well take all these shocks now so that I can have a quiet day tomorrow."

"Well," Tifa mused, "I was the tour guide for Sephiroth in Nibelheim."

Yazoo snorted disbelievingly. "No way."

"Way. And…" She nudged the side of his leg with hers. "…I'm in love with his clone."

"You know, when you say it like that, it doesn't rule out Loz."

A foreign sensation of his stomach flipping occurred when Tifa mentioned the word "love". He wetted his lips, trying to bottle down an unexpected rush of happiness he hadn't felt in days. To be honest with himself, he probably had enough confidence now to celebrate with a hearty backflip of joy. But not in front of Tifa. Not yet.

"Hmm, true." Angling her arm, she fingered his chin in thought. "But your brother seems to have his eyes on someone else. And I wasn't talking about him anyway,"

He smiled. Internally, he made a mental note to ask him about that, where 'ask', in terms of Yazoo's eagerness to make Loz feel awkward for once, meant 'interrogate'.

Then, in a flurry of movement, Tifa took hold of his chin and let her lips brush against his, conveying in that single action everything about her, about _them_.

Love.

Yazoo couldn't explain it any better. If love was the vanishing of loneliness and fear, the birth of truly being happy, then it was love he was feeling.

His feet had taken him off the sofa without him really registering it. Tifa's arms were locked round him, her knees bumped against his as she pulled him out of the living room and up the stairs. Left behind was an empty glass and a bottle of cranberry juice, cap escaped from the table, rolling on the floor.

* * *

**A/N:** -Fade to black- :)

I drank cranberry juice the other day, and it tasted absolutely foul. Anyway, Yazoo got the wrong concept of 'drinking', though that's not the important part to this chapter.

As I've mentioned before, part 2 of this chapter is **M-rated**, and is not necessary to the plot. If you want to read it, the link is in my profile if you can find your way around it :) Please only read if you're of age - I want to write the rest of this fic from the comforts of my room, not from prison.

On another note, I did consider AdultFanfiction but mainly for the reason that the site is focused primarily on smut and PWP (whereas I'm not), I opted to archive this second half to my own site. Beware, there are a lot of broken links because the site's not finished yet. Don't try to read Angel Hunter because there's nothing there :)

If you do read Part 2, please, please be very kind and leave a review. I know it might be hassle to go back to this fic after landing on another site, but Part 2 was done to suit the requests for Tifa and Yazoo to get further ahead in their relationship, and I would like to know what you think of it. Or the fact that you read it in the first place – I don't want to feel my effort in writing it has gone to waste :S

Thanks for taking the time to read all that malarkey – I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	24. Ease

**A/N:** Hey everyone! I have updated at last :) Compared to last update, this was good fun to write. It's all general fluff and humour. No angst today 'cause we've had loads of that already. Don't let the ending deter you :)

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 24: Ease**

Yazoo woke to the pleasant sound of light tapping. He was remarkably content, outstretched on the bed in a tangle of bedsheets and Tifa's limbs.

Her head rested in the crook of his neck, arm resting limply over him but caught up in the long strands of his hair, claiming possession. Tifa's eyes were half open, signalling she was awake but, like him, unwilling to get up.

Yazoo wriggled a tad and placed a kiss on her fringe. He wanted to wake up everyday, where the first thing he'd see would be Tifa's deep eyes, and the first thing he'd smell would be her honeyed hair. It'd just be ideal. Anything for this world of feeling content…

The tapping sounded again, but it was unimportant. That was, until a voice accompanied it.

"_Hello_? Tifa! You've overslept! Are you okay?"

Tifa's tired self vanished, and within a split second, she had sprung up out of bed in alarm. The bedsheets were whipped off him as she took them with her. With an audible bang, her shoulder hit the door, knocking it shut. In all her panic, Yazoo managed to scramble off the bed, looking round for something to wear. Gone were the peaceful thoughts of a lie in. Right now, all he could do was think of the horror of being seen like this.

"Y-Yuffie?" Tifa asked hesitantly. Her breath had caught up with her, and one hand was gripped on the door handle.

"Yeah?"

"Uh…I…" Tifa was seemingly useless in winging it, more preoccupied with pointing out the laundry pile on her chair. Yazoo made for it gratefully, mouthing a 'thank you', knowing that with Yuffie's fearful talents in eavesdropping, he was to be as quiet as possible.

"Tifa, you know you're nearly the last to wake up. Well, Yazoo and Loz are still sleeping, but that doesn't mean you get a lie in! The poor kids have already gone to school with lunches _Cloud_ made."

Tifa stopped concentrating on covering her modesty with the sheet, and it wobbled precariously as she brought her head closer to the door.

"They've left?…What time is it, Yuffie?"

"Nearly 10."

"_Nearly 10_?" she squeaked. "I mean, uh, no problem – when I oversleep I usually wake up at 10…ish…"

Having Yazoo in the corner, bundling together tell-tale clothes and dressed in trousers and a sock, was probably very distracting.

"Are you ill?" Yuffie's voice was now laden with suspicion, slipping through the door and causing much alarm without the ninja really knowing. Then, if having her outside the room was bad enough, she sent the alarm bells to full scale sirens wailing.

"Right, you're ill, I'm coming in."

Yazoo's mantra of telling himself to make no sound at all went straight out the window. He let out a strangled gasp of mortification, but it was thankfully covered by Tifa's own shriek of, "Gods! No!" followed by a war of pushing the door closed – or in Yuffie's case, open.

"Sorry Yuffie, I'm having a really bad morning. I look awful. I went to bed late last night, and it's caught up on me."

"Late?" said Yuffie. The doorknob stopped rattling threateningly. "Was it you drinking cranberry juice then? Or was someone else up?"

Tifa shot him a quizzical look before lying to save his dignity. Cranberry juice? Was that what he had been drinking?

"That was me."

"Oh. Cloud's indirectly calling you a muppet then, because in his words, whoever drank the juice must've been a right muppet to drink it undiluted."

Yazoo flushed, but there was no time for embarrassment, for Yuffie had hopped onto another matter, her voice calling through the door still but sounding terrifying even in her body's absence.

"Whatever the case, wake up soon. Cloud's launching into his paranoid ideas, and I'm getting bored because there's been no one to talk to all morning. I'm going to go wake up Loz. See you in a minute!"

Tifa's shoulders relaxed as she sighed loudly, saying, "That's a great idea…" She seemed more than happy to be rid of Yuffie, and for a split-second Yazoo was of the same mind, until his brain turned itself back on and realised what waking up Loz meant.

He tried to convey "No! No! Bad idea! She'll notice I'm missing if she goes to Loz!" in silence. He waved his arms, mouthed the important part of the message ("No!") and threw a nearby plushie lightly at Tifa for her attention.

"Yuffie!" she shouted immediately.

"Yeah?"

"Let Loz sleep. I know it's late and that, but he's er…still recovering," she finished.

"All right. Hurry up though, before I die of boredom. Sitting downstairs with Cloud and Vincent's like attending a funeral."

And as she left, so did whatever panic Yazoo had. When he made his way back carefully to his room (after giving Tifa a goodbye kiss even though he was only going across the corridor), he messed up his creaseless bed to avoid suspicion, took a quick shower and found Loz was actually very much asleep.

For years and years, Yazoo had woken up to see his brothers sleeping next to him. It was calming – their presence and the looks on their faces. Loz certainly looked very tired today though, Yazoo decided. He left him fast asleep and went downstairs.

He could understand Yuffie's proclamation that she was having a boring morning. Cloud was sorting through masses of delivery schedules, Vincent was reading, adopting a very solemn posture, and Cid was nowhere in sight. Paperwork and books were activities that didn't require talking or any form of communication, and stripped of it all _would _seem like a funeral for her.

His legs, acting of their own accord, took him straight behind the bar to Tifa. In retrospect, their bad start of a morning was pretty silly, and they laughed it off between themselves, casting each other small, sheepish glances. The toaster shot out their breakfast, and as Tifa began to spread on the jam, she deliberately stood at Yazoo's side, knocking her arm against his.

They deemed the table too far away to eat breakfast, and opted to continue to stand behind the bar. Tifa fed him bits of her breakfast as well as cleaning the kitchen at the same time. After breakfast, she got started on some washing up, and as usual, she pulled her long hair back into a ponytail, out of the way. It was a normal sight, but this morning, she looked surprisingly pretty, and it was an opportunity Yazoo was not going to miss.

He kissed the back of her neck, moving across her cheek to kiss her lips. She laughed exasperatedly against him, muttering, "Yazoo, I can't concentrate on cleaning this chopping board."

"You just move the sponge round in circles," he said. Tifa grinned and tilted her cheek towards him, waiting for his affections.

In the corner of the bar, Cloud looked like he had just witnessed an execution and busied himself even more with his paperwork.

"Hey Yazoo," called Yuffie, "once you've finished your canoodling, you might want to go in the hall. Someone left a message for you on the answer machine last night."

Yazoo inwardly groaned, prying himself off Tifa's lips unwillingly. In any context of outside communication with Yazoo, there wasn't much choice as to who that 'someone' could be. He went to the hallway as told, leaning against the stairs and rolling his eyes as the voice gave an unnecessary self-introduction.

"Yazoo, it's Reno. I'm ringing at 4 in the morning, so I guess you aren't awake. Don't ask. Mad shifts down here at the moment. I've just been on a six hour chopper ride and it's messed with my body clock. Anyway, I don't know if you meant to do so, but you forgot your file when you left lunch yesterday. No worries though, it's safe with Elena and she'll drop it off at the bar soon."

He blinked. He _had _returned from the Turk lunch empty handed as well as empty hearted. Well, for all he cared, Reno could keep that stupid file. Yazoo had no use for it anymore.

"What I rang to tell you was," Reno continued, "…was…that I er...had a flick through your file, but all for good reason! Some really good news, mate. That file's not as hopeless as you thought it was. The names, Yazoo! The _names_!"

Yazoo swore the answer machine was quivering with excitement as Reno's voice burst loudly from it. "While the file tells us nothing about termination, the _professors_ who designed you have the knowledge. I ran some checks using ShinRa's only remaining filing cabinet, and I've got down some of the old lab workers who might be able to help. I've gotten the go ahead from Rufus to visit them - just reached Junon in fact, absolutely tipping it with rain. So it's looking good. I'll get back to you with what I've found out. Hang on."

There was rustling, during which time Reno had lapsed into silence. He came back moments later, and it was only when his voice sounded crackled, did Yazoo remember that he wasn't in a real conversation. He was so immersed in Reno's news. There was hope after all.

"According to the itinerary Tseng set up for us there's three potential professors here in Junon, not professors anymore mind you, but Tseng's got a way of making people talk, even if they're the defiant ones who love to deny they had anything to do with ShinRa. Tseng takes that attitude personally. Again, don't ask. I'm meandering here. I'll wrap it up and contact you when I next can. In the meantime, why don't you tell your brother all about it as well as --" he snorted "--your girlfriend."

The message ended with a loud beep.

"It looks like Nibelheim was worthwhile then, I've been proved wrong," a voice behind Yazoo said. From the stairs, Loz grinned at him, resting his good arm on the banister. "It's nice of Reno to go negotiating for us."

Yazoo probably would have throttled the professors who had made his and his brothers' lives a misery before they had the chance to say anything, and judging by Loz's light smile, the older brother knew that fact.

"I'm curious as to why Rufus gave him the go ahead. Seems a bit false. All this talk about rebuilding ShinRa and helping us."

"Well, all kinds of events can change the way you feel." Loz gave a wise nod, in strong agreement with what he said. While Yazoo dismissed it, choosing to ponder over Reno's message and the jibe about having a girlfriend (a jibe that made his insides warm), it brought home a question that he wanted to be answered for a long time.

Quickly, he grabbed his brother's elbow, pulled him down the stairs into the living room and shut the door. Loz's eyes were round with confusion.

"What? I only said…"

"Are you going to tell me then? Events changing the _way you feel_."

"How do you mean? I don't understand."

It was the fact that Loz actually looked at a loss that made Yazoo snort. It looked so genuine, it had to be fake. After all, did Loz think he could hide from his own brother? Yazoo decided to drop a much more obvious clue.

"Between you and Yuffie…!"

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? You must think I've got shit for brains or something," Yazoo snapped, his impatience getting the better of him. "It's not that hard to notice!"

Loz frowned, seemingly in thought, but as Yazoo knew it all too well, it also meant Loz was sceptical and unimpressed.

"You know all about me and Tifa, it's only fair you fill me in on what you're up to." Yazoo quirked his eyebrows, and affronted by it, Loz pulled a face.

"I'm just…doing her a favour I guess."

He accompanied his statement with a half-hearted shrug. Yazoo didn't know what he found more annoying: the vagueness in the answer or the fact that Loz was acting as though he was a victim.

"I'm not digging at you." Yazoo attempted to be a tad more polite, despite the curiosity burning within him. He took a seat on the sofa. "It just looks like – well, from my point of view anyway – that you're seeing each other. You and Yuffie."

"I…"

Loz broke off, and lapsed into silence. Yazoo read his face, and it seemed (here, he gasped in frustration) the older brother had never once even considered himself and Yuffie as an item.

"You like her, don't you?" Yazoo pressed. "Guessing by the way you're constantly together, the private jokes between you."

Yazoo decided not to add the envious amount of occasions Loz had chosen Yuffie over him.

"Well," Loz began, "I guess we're er…just friends, I suppose. She hasn't made it official or anything…"

"It doesn't need to be written on paper, Loz. Look, I'll just let you know – I don't mind if there is something going on with her. I think you two suit each other."

He ignored the tiny part inside of him that growled, begging to differ. Of course he was annoyed that Loz had found other company, but in all fairness, the older brother hadn't raised so much as a finger in protest when Yazoo started to notice Tifa.

Loz slumped down next to him on the sofa with the similar air of someone who had just lost all his money.

"Yazoo, I really like her," he admitted. "But I don't know…she's still a bit hung up on Vincent, and I don't want to badger her about it. Sometimes I wonder what she thinks of me. I mean, she had that argument with Vincent and…it was afterwards that she realised I existed, I suppose. Maybe she thinks I'm Vincent."

Yazoo then remembered something. How Yuffie had said that morning that she had no one to talk to with Cloud busy with work. Then how about Vincent? Wasn't he good enough to have a conversation with? Did he make her unhappy? Or did he not compare to Loz?

"Well, from where I'm standing, she looks pretty keen on you."

Loz smiled weakly. "It's not something I'm used to – being liked. And by a girl to boot. Kadaj is probably raving mad with us. I wouldn't be surprised if he's waging some sort of war with the lifestream so he can get out and skewer us onto Souba."

A ghost of a nostalgic grin flitted across Yazoo's face. It was something he hadn't considered – life with Kadaj _and_ Tifa. He doubted his brother would be happy with him and Loz. With a saddened flip of his stomach, he wished he could hear one of Kadaj's tempers again.

The quiet of the living room had barely begun where Yazoo heard an odd sound. A shrill ringing sound chimed thought 7th Heaven, and Tifa called out loudly from the kitchen, "I've got my hands full. Can someone else answer the door please?"

Yazoo was up in seconds, knocking his arm against Loz's as they made for the door. Loz was thinking the same question; Yazoo could tell. Who would ring the doorbell to 7th Heaven? The bar wasn't open, Reno was away in Junon…

Tifa's request for someone to open the door was met by nearly everyone. Vincent was in the hallway, halting abruptly in his brusque steps when he almost walked into Loz's back (something that was to be avoided unless you wanted a broken nose).

Yazoo opened the door himself, swinging it half open. Yuffie pushed the doormat, caught beneath the door, back down with a foot. A refreshing breeze and a new wave of surprise washed over him. For seconds, he could only stare.

Why was Rufus Shinra standing outside the door to 7th Heaven?

It was unmistakably him, even if it wasn't really possible. After all, the President had a selection of four messengers to choose from – why would Rufus himself come to the deserted districts of Edge, apparently all alone?

Tseng answered that question for him, appearing seemingly from nowhere and positioning himself to stand a respectable few feet at a diagonal to Rufus. He folded his arms behind his back, adopting a rigid posture and saying nothing. Considering that he was of the occupation as Reno, Yazoo was somewhat surprised by this stoic behaviour.

Rufus himself was smiling, very faint in its presence but all too clear on a face that rarely displayed such an action. A smart white jacket hung over the crook of an arm, leaving its owner dressed in the matching trousers, shirt and a greyish waistcoat. His posture screamed importance and charisma; Yazoo found his back was unconsciously straightening itself in a futile attempt to look a bit more respectable.

From beneath the sandy bangs of Rufus' fringe, deep blue eyes stared at the clone, unblinking. Underneath them were the tell tale signs of a President working late into the night. The dark shadows of his eye bags blemished what would have been a handsome face, and if one were to squint, some faint lines across his forehead could be seen.

Then, without much warning, Rufus lifted a hand and beckoned for Yazoo to come closer. The hand was completely free of Geostigma.

"Just between you and me," the President said in an undertone, "I don't have complete confidence in walking, let alone standing for long periods of time. It would be appreciated if you let me in."

Yazoo held the door wide open.

* * *

**A/N:** I don't think this fic can get away without an appearance from Rufus. I thought about giving him some appearance by phone calls and such, but since he's the reason for the big mess, it would be more satisfying for Yazoo and co – as well as readers - to hear it from the horse's mouth.

I also added an unintentional hint at my next fic, when Yazoo mused about juggling life with Tifa and Kadaj, since that will be what Angel Hunter will be about – everyone's favourite selfish SHM.

As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed this fic. Though some people were confused with how to get to Eternity Part 2 or thought it wasn't up, I assure you, the link is there. If you are confused, don't hesitate – let me know and I'll help you :) Please be kind and leave a review, I'd really appreciate it!


	25. Offer

**A/N:** Hiya everyone! It's been a very long time since I've updated, so I suppose you all know now that I can't promise to keep to deadlines. However, I'm back on track with some fresh ideas, so this fic's well on the way to being finished. I hope you can forgive me for keeping you all waiting so long. Thanks for the reviews of the previous chapters during my overly long hiatus - I enjoyed reading them and the feedback they offered.

We're picking up where the last chapter left us - with Rufus randomly turning up on the doorstep. Enjoy :) 

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 25: Offer**

If Rufus thought he'd be welcomed into the bar with open arms, then he had another thing coming. Yuffie demanded an explanation just by her posture, stood with one slender leg bent as she stomped a foot onto the footrest of a barstool. Arms folded, she took on the fiercest glare she could muster. The corner of Yazoo's mouth twitched. The ninja looked like Kadaj more than ever. If his brother were alive, he'd probably arrange himself in a posture like that when wanting answers.

Cloud made a big deal about putting his paperwork away. Every now and then, his sharp eyes would challenge Rufus', but the President was keen to let the fuss of his entrance die down before doing anything. In the corner of the bar, Vincent resumed his place, propping up his long legs on a chair opposite him and looking every bit the relaxed man. However, his eyes were as alert as ever, watching from beneath his bandana every move of Tseng.

Rufus took a seat at the counter, giving his legs a rest and, whether intentional or not Yazoo wasn't sure, turning his back against both him and Loz. Tseng remained standing, feet square to his shoulders and darting eyes memorising his surroundings.

It was only out of the courtesy Tifa had drilled into her that made her give Rufus a drink. He was given no choice of beverage, and when she set the drink down, it missed the coaster and wobbled precariously. Several drops splattered onto the counter near Rufus' hand. Tseng was quick to respond. Like a magician (and Yazoo was getting the feeling that Tseng seemed prepared for just about anything), he whipped out a tissue, wiped up the spill, threw it away and resumed his position behind the President.

Yazoo was fascinated. It was quite normal - expected even - to show an overload of respect for a boss, but towards a President of nothing? Rufus Shinra had no company, or at the very least, the near-invisible foundations of one. After all, there was no demand for ShinRa Company's monopoly over the world to come back, seeing how successful everyone could be without it. And still, with reasons Yazoo had yet to fathom, here was Tseng, unfazed by ShinRa and its President's fall to disgrace.

"The bar's looking nice," commented Rufus. "I suppose your heroic deeds really have paid off."

"Small talk doesn't suit you," Cloud interjected. "Carry on like that and you'll make me laugh in a minute."

Cloud didn't look amused at all. In fact, in the whole of the room, he looked angriest. Yazoo could fully appreciate the rage Cloud, Tifa, Yuffie and even Vincent were feeling – his gratitude had spun out of control at the thought of people being angry for him – yet something didn't feel quite right. He didn't really feel _part _of it. He was a spectator on the sidelines, out of the crowd and indifferent to the outcome.

"Let's get to the point then," said the President. Vincent unclasped his entwined hands and got up with a similar air to someone who was preparing for a fight. Yuffie mouthed "Finally!" to Tifa.

What Rufus said though was so unexpected that the silence that followed burned Yazoo's ears, and something came alive in his stomach, squeezing his insides.

"Loz and Yazoo, I'd like you to consider working as my subordinates."

Yazoo couldn't understand why he wasn't feeling anything. After all, the man in front of him was the reason for this mess. He was going to die. _Loz_ was going to die. And Kadaj was already dead.

Rufus was to blame for it all.

Yazoo knew that now.

And here was the President with that mechanical, well rehearsed smile, waiting for the brothers to accept his offer. Or flip out. Yazoo doubted that anything could faze this man. Either way, if he or Loz did feel like pummelling Rufus, they'd have to first get past Tseng – the blue shadow in the background that created just about as enough of an effect as the President himself.

By the time Yazoo had reordered his thoughts, shunting aside feelings of bitterness, loss and anger, Cloud had leapt forwards, displaying a rainbow of emotions Yazoo didn't even know he had the capability of doing.

"Subordinates?" he repeated. "Is that your new way of saying 'lab rats'? You've got a screw loose, Shinra, if you're actually thinking about recruiting past sufferers of your company. Of course they don't want to join."

"If I have one screw loose, then you must have several. For one thing, I quite clearly addressed Loz and Yazoo. Secondly, speaking on behalf of someone else can be rather insulting. It implies your distrust in their decisions, and highlights your need to make your opinion known over anyone else's."

The glass hit the coaster with an unmistakable air of finality, and Rufus turned his gaze onto Yazoo without warning.

"My company is presently very small and unproductive. I wouldn't refuse some extra hands helping out here and there."

"Oh yeah, just an odd experiment or two," Yuffie contributed in an undertone. The only problem with Yuffie's undertones was that they were not discreet at all. Tseng's eyes flickered from monitoring Cloud to eyeing the ninja, but he said nothing. Yazoo presumed that Tseng had no say in this conversation without Rufus' word.

Cloud had actually broken into a smile, but it was uncharacteristically colder than usual. It was a smile of disbelief, as though the blonde was expecting for Rufus to shout, "Just kidding!" any minute.

"Your potential employees will be dead in a few months," he said.

"Yes I know."

"And you don't have anything to say about it?" Cloud's voice had risen, and it hit the walls of the bar, ricocheting round the room. The glasses by the sink shuddered. "You're just going to stroll in here without so much as an apology?"

"I'm offering a proposition that will benefit both parties."

"You know, you're a really good example of karma gone wrong. Twice you've faced death, and you're still smiling!"

"I like to remain optimistic."

Yazoo had returned to his bystander role, stood on the sidelines of a fight, watching and supporting both sides. In a vague world of comprehension, he found himself admiring Cloud for his nerve, and Rufus for his composure. He fleetingly forgot that the argument was about him, but in the clamour of movement, he was jolted out of this pensive moment.

Yuffie finally snapped, unable to stand still in the background any longer. She voiced her opinion, rounding on the unfortunate Tseng to lecture him. Among the noise and hostile movement, Yazoo spotted his brother, and in the brief moment they met each other's gaze, he realised for the first time, he couldn't read what Loz was thinking. It annoyed him slightly to see Loz that way; he wanted to march over and rearrange Loz's face into an expression he recognised.

"Break it up you two," Tifa spoke at last, stepping between Cloud and the counter at which Rufus sat. "Cloud, you're only wearing yourself out. Rufus, without giving any details, you have no hope of your recruiting working. As far as I know, there is no ShinRa Company anymore."

For being so outspoken, Yazoo wanted to praise Tifa out loud, but her expression towards him made him reconsider. Perhaps it was his and Loz's long streak of silence that had irked her. Whatever the case, Yazoo saw it as a sensible thing to back off, and so did Cloud, giving Rufus one last look of disgust before joining a sulky Vincent in the corner.

Rufus took this as an opportunity to speak without the fear (if he had any) of being mauled by Cloud.

"My company is quite rightly shattered, Miss Lockheart," admitted Rufus. "After Meteor, I had already begun plans to rebuild it, but I received very little cooperation."

"Wonder why," uttered Yuffie to Loz.

"In the course of two years, my company has managed to acquire a dingy office in Healin Lodge and a filing cabinet with one drawer stuck. Not the greatest of achievements. Oh, and the Turks of course."

Yazoo glanced at Tseng quickly. Miraculously, the Turk did not seem at all offended that he had come second to a broken filing cabinet.

"ShinRa Company is working on a small scale at the moment, particularly in Edge," Rufus continued. His voice remained as smooth as ever, unhindered by Vincent and Cloud's suspicious gazes and Yuffie's comments under her breath. Yazoo found himself allured by the President, willing to listen to such a voice of rationality. "It has changed its aims and motives; joining us in our cause will not be an action you will regret, Loz, Yazoo."

He looked at them both in turn, getting their names correct and once again, smiling that mechanical smile.

"You said you were working on a small scale," Loz answered. "If that's the case, why were you and the Turks in Junon?"

The aloof atmosphere Rufus had brought in with him disappeared in an instant, as the President gave a genuine smile. He suddenly didn't look as old, tired or calculating, and he averted his gaze as though sheepish about something.

"Oh, that has nothing to do with my company; it was more so a personal trip. I was in Junon to buy a pet."

Yazoo only half listened from then on. Rufus expanded the talk of his trip to Junon, mentioning his old pet and how he decided he wanted a new one. Yazoo searched through his memories, recalling Reno, Rude and Elena's Turk lunch. Had they really been discussing a trip as unprofessional as buying a pet? Why were the Turks so keen to stand by their President, no matter what he did? Perhaps all four of the Turks believed in their boss' perfect image of a man who was correct, regardless. Just like how he and Loz had believed in Kadaj.

"It has become quite limited for me in terms of travelling, but I deliberately took time off following my recovery so that I could go to Junon. It was refreshing to be back there; I hadn't felt that well for a long time."

"Are you very ill?"

The words of concern were out of Yazoo's mouth before he had even thought about it. Across the room were several identical looks of horror, Tifa included. Loz finally expressed some emotion, staring at Yazoo in disbelief and possible disapproval.

"I have been in better health," was Rufus' reply. "Two years ago I nearly died. The price for my hold on life was rather dear."

"But hasn't your…hasn't your Geostigma gone?"

"It has."

"If you're ill, then why are you working so hard?"

"It's what I want to do."

It was almost as though the room was void of everyone except Rufus and Yazoo. It was possible that Rufus knew that Yazoo had ulterior motives. Where on the one hand Cloud, Yuffie and Tifa were attempting to worm an apology out of Rufus' mouth, all Yazoo wanted was a simple conversation.

In truth, the idea of working with Rufus and the Turks thrilled him.

It was a chance for him to repay Elena and Tseng for what Kadaj did, and it was a window of opportunity for him to not have to be spoon fed by those at 7th Heaven. As grateful as he was for everyone's hospitality, he didn't want to be worthless anymore. Though Yazoo knew that there was no way Tifa could understand these reasons, he couldn't help but think them.

Rufus was reading Yazoo's train of thoughts simply by watching him, and after a courteous moment of quiet, he said, "ShinRa Company is now distributing its funds through the search of particular people. To begin with, we researched into the after-effects of Sephiroth, however, we simultaneously scoured over the world for certain people."

"Certain people?"

"Researchers of alternate methods of acquiring energy, smaller companies that had helped ShinRa in previous years and the Doctors to whom I owe my life."

"This is the full list." Tseng entered the conversation at long last. From the pocket of his creaseless blazer, he handed Yazoo a single sheet of paper. "Please read it at your leisure."

There were over one hundred names, crammed onto the two sides of the paper in small font. It detailed some locations, but on the whole, the whereabouts of the associates where unknown.

"You're being a bit charitable," grumbled Yuffie. To Yazoo's surprise, Vincent nodded in agreement, and added to Yuffie's comment, "It's far too ideal to be taken as true."

"You want me to help you find these people?" Yazoo asked.

It would be fit for these associates to see how far a product of ShinRa can come. It would benefit you to see more of the world rather than the outskirts of Edge. I am sure this thought has crossed your mind before."

"If Yazoo wants to travel the world, he doesn't have to do it with you as a chaperone," Tifa interjected. At the same time, Vincent voiced the question, "Are you trying to keep them on a leash?"

Rufus merely smiled. His eyes read: _This is nobody else's conversation. No one's opinion matters except for yours._

Yazoo shifted his gaze past Tifa and Cloud and, finding he couldn't quite challenge the President's eyes, gave his answer to Tseng instead.

"I'll consider it."

It was Cloud who moved first. He walked over to his buster sword (shooting a murderous look at Yazoo on the way) and swung it round so suddenly that for a horrifying second, Yazoo thought Cloud was going to behead Rufus. Instead, the sword landed neatly in its sheathe on Cloud's back.

"Going to Kalm. The door's this way, Rufus."

With such a fierce tone in his voice, it sounded like Cloud was going on a rampage rather than going to Kalm. But Rufus acknowledged it with a near-passive nod, standing up slowly and beckoning for Tseng to come along.

"We'll be awaiting your answer. When Elena drops off your folder tomorrow, please send us your reply. Good day."

Rufus exited the bar after Cloud. Tseng slowed down his pace of walking, taking a slight detour and pausing in front of Vincent, who was still sat in the corner.

"Please steer clear of Elena. She still hasn't forgiven you."

Vincent barely had time to look up before Tseng had also left. Yazoo was about to ask what that was all about, but Tifa was at his side straight away.

"You'll consider it?" she asked. "You really are going to consider working under a man like that?"

"The loser didn't even apologise, or even _look _sorry," chipped in Yuffie. She stood akimbo, sticking out her lower lip. "I mean, when I did things wrong and had to apologise to my dad, at least I kept up a sorry face even if I didn't feel sorry."

Loz couldn't help but grin. Tifa, however, steered Yazoo away from Yuffie's conversation to her own.

"Yazoo, you don't know Rufus. He came here to manipulate us, probably. He might have even wanted us to think he was going to apologise. But the nerve he had to stroll in here and ignore the commotion he's caused…"

She slumped onto a barstool, leaning her head on one hand, the other scooping up Rufus' finished glass and pushing it onto the sideboard of the sink opposite her.

"I could see how convenient everything was the moment he stepped in. He had Tseng look into the best time of day for Rufus to visit. That's why the kids aren't here at the moment. Without them, Cloud can vent his anger as freely as he likes, and you and Loz will cast him off as irrational and side with Rufus."

"I don't think Cloud is--"

"Rufus knew you'd consider, Yazoo. Why else do you think Tseng carried that list, ready to give to you, to _read at your leisure_? Worse, why only one list? How come after Rufus got your attention, he left Loz out of it all? Maybe he knows that Loz is easily convinced by you, but it doesn't work the other way round. Don't you see? You're better off listening to Cloud. Cloud knows."

"You cut off Cloud, remember?" Yazoo didn't mean to sound so accusing, but it came out that way.

"I feel guilty about it all now," she muttered. "Cloud really stood up for me and what I believe in, and all I did was sulk like a ten year old and interrupt him."

That's right, Yazoo thought. Cloud wasn't angry for my sake. He was angry for Tifa's.

"You didn't sulk. That was Loz." Yazoo rolled his eyes in the direction of his brother, who was immersed in a quiet chat with Yuffie. In the corner, Vincent still hadn't moved.

"Do you think Loz will consider it too?" Tifa questioned.

"Might do. If I didn't say I'd consider it, Rufus might not have left otherwise."

Tifa managed a grin, the warmth of which didn't quite meet her eyes. Yazoo wondered if she was that desperate for an apology.

"It wouldn't make any difference," he murmured. He leant against the counter. "Apologising. I'd still have six months left, wouldn't I?"

"That's not the point, Yazoo." Tifa straightened. "In fact, that's completely off the point. Apologies aren't meant to make a difference in that way, but any decent person should know when to apologise."

"I don't think I wanted him to apologise. It wouldn't have been sincere, and his reasons to kill me might outweigh my reasons to live."

Tifa's eyes hardened. "You're still missing the point, Yazoo."

It was only at night when, accompanied by Loz's merciless snores, Yazoo considered Tifa's words seriously.

Why did Rufus only want him? What did he have that Loz didn't?

Rufus had spoken about how he needed extra people to help him with his generous cause, but looking at the day's events in retrospect, Rufus' attention was solely on Yazoo. And that was only after Yazoo had fixed _his_ attention him. He had the feeling that Rufus knew a lot more about his situation than he did. Even so...

Who should he trust? Tifa? Or for the first time, himself?

The following morning, after a night of restless sleep, Yazoo waited for Elena to hand him his folder. He was unaware of Loz's decision, but that precisely how he wanted it. He was to decide things for himself this time. No more shelter, no more of Loz's nagging, no more of Kadaj's demands.

As soon as he saw the navy figure and bright blonde hair, Yazoo hastily met up with her and told her his acceptance of Rufus' offer.

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**A/N:** Not one of my best chapters, but it's my first stab at Rufus. We'll see in later chapters what the deal is between Elena and Vincent, as well as more Rufus, I think. For now though, please be kind and leave a review - I'd really appreciate it.

In addition, the Genesis Awards nominations are beginning soon. If you're interested in reading quality FFVII fanfiction and want to meet some of the authors here in the FFVII fandom, check the link in my profile to go to the forum. Feel free to sign up - I'd love to talk to you all :)


	26. Mission

**A/N: **Hi guys, chapter 26 is finally up - enjoy :)

**To Batgirl84:** Er...your request got a bit too warped as I juggled the idea of a makeover and keeping Yazoo somewhat in character. Unfortunately, Loz isn't really in this chapter at all, so he's not with Marlene, but there are some pink ribbons for you ;) Thanks for your request!

**Disclaimer: **All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 26: Mission**

Since Elena's visit to drop by his folder, Yazoo heard no more of ShinRa for the next month. The blue-suited appearance and the dash of white had come and gone, and it was almost as though it had never happened. Of course, there were several strong reminders of it, particularly Cloud's constant looks of disapproval and the list of people Rufus was looking for. The quarter-folded sheet was on Yazoo's bedside table, untouched since its entrance into his life.

Yazoo thought about his situation most at night, when he was away from the interference of other people. If he was to be honest with himself, he was holding some suspicion against the ShinRa President even if he did accept his offer.

It was because of what Tifa had said to him.

_Rufus knew you'd consider, Yazoo. Why else do you think Tseng carried that list, ready to give to you, to read at your leisure? Worse, why only one list? How come after Rufus got your attention, he left Loz out of it all?_

What _did_ he have that Loz didn't? Loz was stronger, more rational, much more confident. Unless that was precisely the reason Rufus had no interest in him. Maybe Rufus wanted the weaker of the two – him.

Yazoo rolled over and looked across the room at Loz's sleeping form. The elder brother lay flat on his back, injured arm on his chest.

Suddenly, Yazoo sat up. A thought had hit him, one that sent an unwelcome shiver coursing down the nape of his neck.

For how long had Loz had that broken arm now?

It was nearly three months. _Three_ months. That was impossible. Loz didn't need three months to recover – he had a body that could repair itself in three _days_. So why was that arm still broken?

Yazoo slid off his bed, switched on his lamp, headed over to Loz and grabbed his wrist. The elder brother's fingers were just visible under the fresh, spotless bandages, and as Yazoo tightened his grip, the fingers twitched and Loz rolled over so that some of his weight was on his arm.

Well, if that was broken, Loz would've at least woken up from the pain.

He let go. Loz's arm didn't seem injured at all. The bastard was putting it on, having it as an excuse so that he didn't have to do any work, or worse, using it to win everyone's sympathy. Suddenly feeling immensely irritated, Yazoo gave his brother a hard push and went back to bed.

His irritable mood with Loz should've gone away after a good sleep, but Yazoo found that no matter how well he reasoned with himself, his spite was always the winner.

Loz was oblivious to what he had done wrong, and that only incited Yazoo's bad mood. The next morning, with his hair lank and wet from the shower, Yazoo went to the living room, sat on the floor, and reached for one of Cloud's motorbike magazines. He could hear the animated talk in the bar, and Loz's voice stood out particularly.

Yazoo scowled. What _was_ his brother playing at?

He had reached the middle of the magazine before he realised he hadn't read anything. All he could think about was Loz and how stupid he was.

A hand ran through his hair, but it was too small to be Tifa's. He was about to turn round, but something hard abruptly hit his head, scooted through his hair and hit a tangle.

"Ouch!" Yazoo yanked his hair away from the source of pain, and shot a fierce glare at whoever was hurting him. "Marlene! What are you doing?"

"You have a tangle in your hair, Yazoo. But don't be angry. It happens to everyone."

"That's no reason to attack me with a brush, is it?" Yazoo snapped in response. As soon as he had said it, he regretted it. It wasn't Marlene's fault Loz was being an idiot. And it wasn't her fault he had a tangle in his hair.

Marlene set the brush aside, got up onto her knees and proceeded to remove the tangle with her fingers. There was no point in trying to shoo her away, Yazoo decided. If the poor girl wanted to be friends with him, so be it. And if Loz wanted to carry on fooling around in the bar, Yazoo was fine with that too.

"Loz says you're angry with him and he wants to know why." Marlene spoke flatly, giving the impression that someone had elected her as a spokesperson. She reached under the coffee table for a small leather box, but Yazoo disregarded it. "What do you want me to tell him?"

Spiteful thoughts plagued Yazoo's mind and he answered hotly, "Well, you can say to Loz that it's his arm that's broken, not his legs, so he can come round and ask himself."

Later on, Yazoo would wonder why he had made such a bad impression on Marlene with his temper. For the time being though, he was certain that Loz was in the wrong here, and soon everyone would understand that.

"You're angry with Loz, aren't you? Tifa always says that you should speak of your problems because no one in his house is a mind reader."

Yazoo smiled, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Will you listen then?"

"If you want me to."

"Okay then," Yazoo began. "I don't know if you can relate to this, but think of someone who you know like the back of your hand. It's as though the two of you are of the same mind. And then all of a sudden, without you even realising what's happened, he's changed completely and you hardly know him anymore. It's not like this person to keep you in the dark, but he is. You feel like he has left you behind."

"Is that how Loz makes you feel?"

"...A bit." Yazoo couldn't believe he was having a heart to heart with someone who wasn't even ten yet. But he felt lightened, to be able to rant on like this without feeling as though he was being silly. "Few weeks ago...and all the way up to now, I haven't been able to understand Loz at all. I think I have him figured, and then he catches me by surprise and confuses me again. I can't read his expressions anymore, I don't know what he's thinking or planning. I can tell he's hiding something from me - that's about it."

"Denzel's hiding something from me too," Marlene said morosely. She moved away and sat cross legged in front of him. "Sometimes," she continued in little more than a whisper, "I catch him and Erica together, and as soon as I come near, they stop talking. Maybe they hate me and are just _pretending_ to be my friend."

Yazoo rubbed the back of his neck. "No one in their right mind would hate you, Marlene. Perhaps..." He pondered for a minute, recalling a moment of nostalgia. "Loz and I would stop talking about Kadaj when we were younger, but that was becausewe were planning a surprise for him. Maybe Denzel and Erica are planning a surprise for you too?"

Yazoo's reply didn't seem to have much effect at first, but seconds later, Marlene broke into a grateful smile and nodded. "Perhaps Loz is doing the same thing, Yazoo."

"What, planning a surprise for me?"

"Yes!"

Yazoo was hesitant. Loz was not the sort of person who could keep a secret like that. Yazoo would be able to read through something as trivial as a 'surprise'. However, he attempted a grin and answered, "Yeah, he could be. Thanks Marlene."

"Now." Marlene swiftly lifted her hairbrush into her grip and nudged the leather box she had brought out earlier. "Choose one for your hair. Do you prefer blue, green or pink?"

"Choose what?" Yazoo dared to lean over the lid of the box. Then he sat back. "Hey, Marlene. Generally speaking, men don't wear ribbons."

"Sure they do." Marlene jerked her head in the direction of the living room door. "Cloud has a ribbon round his arm."

"Yes, but that's different..." Yazoo sighed. How he longed to grab that motorbike magazine, swat the box of ribbons aside and get back to reading. Marlene was now seriously taking advantage of his vulnerable state. He listened, he confessed and he suggested, but he was not adding to that nice streak by wearing a ribbon.

"You don't want one in your hair?"

"No thanks."

"How about for your arm?"

Yazoo stopped trying to read his magazine inconspicuously. "Will it stop me from getting one in my hair?"

"I suppose so."

"All right then." He extended his arm in defeat, and was about to shrink it away when he saw a dreadful pink ribbon in Marlene's hand. Instead though, he kept his arm still - frozen with horror perhaps.

"There you go," said Marlene. "I think you would have looked better with one in your hair, but you're just like Cloud. He said 'no' too. Actually..." Marlene broke off to lapse into thought, "...He said something like, 'I've had enough of ribbons in my hair, thank you'. You don't suppose Cloud has worn them before?"

"Unlikely," replied Yazoo. "What's the point of everyone wearing ribbons anyway?"

"To remember." Tifa waved slightly from the doorway in which she now stood in. "It suits you, Yazoo. Anyway, I'm here because...well, it's Reno. He's at the door for you again."

Yazoo was about to let a grin grow on his face, but he thought better on seeing Tifa looking quite unimpressed. "Oh, right," he said lamely. He got to his feet, edged past Tifa and put exceptional effort into making it look like he was in no hurry to reach the door.

Loz was already in the hallway, but he was on his way up the stairs. As soon as they locked gazes, Loz asked accusingly, "Where have you been? Everyone in the bar thinks you're still sleeping."

"I was with Marlene, actually," retorted Yazoo. "You should know that, since you sent her to speak on your behalf."

"What?" Loz breathed. "I didn't tell her to do anything of the sort."

"Because she'd really come along of her own accord and update me on what you're saying--"

"Well, she must've! Look, it doesn't even matter." Loz sighed loudly. "Reno's at the door for you."

Yazoo gave his brother a scowl, knowing of nothing else he could do, and yanked the door open. Reno was crouched down, his ear against where the keyhole would have been.

Yazoo coughed for attention. "Can I help?"

Reno straightened. "You know, you guys at 7th Heaven are the only people I know who leave someone waiting clueless at the door for ten minutes, and feel not even the slightest trace of remorse. But to answer your question - yes, you can help. Grab your shoes and tag with me. Rufus has a job for you."

Yazoo rummaged around for his trainers. He suppressed the spiteful happiness that he had over Loz, who was probably jealous of him and Reno being on good terms. Quickly saying goodbye to Marlene and Tifa, Yazoo followed the Turk out the door.

"I'm taking you to Healin Lodge," said Reno.

He held out his cigarette pack and as usual, Yazoo shook his head.

"One day, you'll take one," was all Reno said.

Healin Lodge was a short journey from 7th Heaven. On a deserted stretch of land, there seemed to be no indication of people at all.

"We're using this as a temporary headquarters for ShinRa. Rufus also likes the scenery here." The Turk gestured to the steep cliff face next to the Lodge. "Apparently, it gives him inspiration."

Yazoo couldn't quite understand how Healin Lodge could be so inspiring to a man like Rufus. On the outside, it was bleak and empty, and on the inside, it was no better. There was a desk, several chairs, a filing cabinet and a half-dead potted plant. In the corner was a wheelchair.

"Not much for your headquarters, is it?" remarked Yazoo.

"You haven't seen the piece de resistance in here." Reno jerked a thumb past him. Framed on the wall was the ShinRa Logo. "One of the few things that survived the explosion two years ago. If you look round the edge you'll see a bit of damage from when the tremors shook it off the wall and into a fire..."

"Do you think Yazoo cares much for that?" Elena spoke up as she entered the circular room, balancing a pile of files against her hip. "Cut to the chase, Reno."

"I didn't know you were here - aren't you supposed to be with the President today?"

"Rude's turn."

Yazoo looked between the two Turks, occupied in their conversation. He took it as a chance to inspect Healin Lodge more. It didn't seem like the home of five people with the mission of bringing back a dominating company. Actually, Yazoo corrected himself, that would be six people. He too was working towards that aim now.

"Here you go, Yazoo. Your task." Reno spun a chair round, took a seat and passed him a blue file. The papers were worn at the edges, and on the cover, it had the ShinRa logo and in clear letters, "Calvin Deanes".

"Who is he?" Yazoo asked. Elena, without warning, pushed him by the shoulder into a seat and snatched the file from him. She turned to the first page.

"Deanes was a Research Assistant for ShinRa, now a fully qualified Researcher for alternative energy methods. More importantly, he was on the team of scientists who were involved with you, Kadaj and Loz."

She turned the file round to show Deanes' photo, and in that instant, Yazoo was reminded of the horror and guilty pleasure he felt when he shot the researcher in order to escape. The man was still alive? And researching, to boot?

"Seems like you remember him," Reno said. He leaned back in his chair, pulling out an ashtray from the desk behind him. "He was one of the people I looked up in your file for information. Everyone else refused to have anything to do with ShinRa, and Deanes actually felt exactly the same way. However, he's our best shot."

"Our?"

"Exactly. Now Yazoo," continued Reno, "as our new comrade and loyal ShinRa member, you want Deanes on our team too. Why? It's because his research is 'astonishing', according to Rufus. If a man like that were to join ShinRa, we could progress with our return. Deanes is crucial, but there's a bit of a problem with him. Elena, if you please."

At this, Elena rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, but she continued grudgingly. "When I confronted him at his office, he was ridden with guilt over how you and your brothers were treated. As such, he refuses to have anything to do with ShinRa. He will probably rethink this if he were to meet you and Loz and realise that his efforts to give you a reasonable existence haven't gone to waste."

Yazoo snorted disdainfully. So Reno wanted him to recruit past scientists back into ShinRa? There was no chance of that; Yazoo might be a ShinRa 'comrade', but he was still himself. And right now, he thought Reno and Elena's idea was a complete waste of his time.

Reno smiled as he puffed on his cigarette. "You know, Yazoo, if Deanes can be convinced to join ShinRa, he could be convinced to help you and Loz. Isn't that what you've been looking for?"

Yazoo remained silent. Of course it was what he was looking for. But through past researchers? The thought of working with the people who had tormented him and his brothers was horrifying, to say the least. Loz would truly think he was turning to the dark side.

But if it was a chance to save Loz, shouldn't he take it? Wouldn't he do anything to ensure Loz's safety?

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**A/N: **And so there's a glimmer of hope for the brothers. Deanes is from my old (and now very bad) fic Ame Ni Matte, though you may already know if you've read it.

While I'm here, I'll update you on Genesis Awards, which is open to nominations for the best in FFVII fanfiction. If you haven't signed up and/or nominated, please do! We're always waiting for new members, and it's a great place to find good fics and really friendly people with the same interests as you. That being said, please be kind a leave a review, I'd appreciate it very much!


	27. Life

**A/N:** Once again, apologies for the late update. Full details are on my profile if you're interested. For now, please enjoy. As a recap, Yazoo's been persuaded to join ShinRa in their rebuilding, under the assumption that he will find help for Loz and himself.

Gigantic thanks to the crazy amount of people who have this fic on alert, and even bigger thanks to the people who reviewed in my long absence. Special mention to **Cedarville** for reviewing every chapter –throws cookies- Thanks, everyone!

**Disclaimer:** Characters are all copyright to Square-Enix.

* * *

**Kuro to Gin**

**Black and Silver**

**Chapter 27: Life**

Before Yazoo left, he scribbled a quick note to his brother – complete with spelling errors and messy writing – and pinned it to the latter's pillow.

_Loz – Am out with Reno and co. Will tell you about it if intrested._

He had showered, changed and packed his bag in less than an hour, and was out of the door by 5.00 am. He did consider quickly saying goodbye to Tifa, but that would mean passing Cloud's room, and Yazoo wouldn't put it past the blonde to wake up instantly from the sound of Yazoo-footsteps. Instead, Yazoo kept his assigned mission a secret, deciding that it was better – and a lot easier – to just go now and face the music later.

Reno had told him to meet up at Healin Lodge. The Turk seemed convinced that Yazoo would remember his way there, and offered no alternative meeting point. Yazoo had thought this was rather rude, since he was doing Reno a favour with this mission, but when he arrived, he could understand why the choice of location was necessary.

"...So, are you going to tell me how your virtually-bust company can whip out a helicopter?"

Reno laughed, looking back at the white aircraft with what could have been fondness. "Those things? We get them cheap from a manufacturer who goes a long way back with ShinRa. Besides, we're not bust," he added, sounding hurt by the remark.

Yazoo was more surprised to see who was in the helicopter. He ducked his head a little to fit through the doorway, ignoring the ShinRa logo emblazoned on the right hand of the door. He came face to face with Tseng and to his left was Rude, who sat in the cockpit and was currently adjusting a headset. Reno loaded a wheelchair into the aircraft. Sure enough, when Yazoo looked towards the back of the helicopter, he saw Rufus in a comfy leather chair. The President stared out of a small window almost longingly.

"Are we all here?" Reno said. "Well, then I guess we're all ready for takeoff then! Hit the controls, Rude!"

But to Yazoo's confusion, Tseng and Rude stared deadpan at Reno, who seemed to cower beneath their gazes. Then, like a dog scorned by its master, Reno sighed and stepped back out of the helicopter.

"I remember now – duty's back _that_ way." He gestured to the long path out of Healin Lodge and smiled briefly at Yazoo, although his shoulders still sagged. "Bring back good news, clone boy."

It was one of the rare occasions where Reno sounded completely serious. Yazoo had the uncomfortable feeling that Deanes was more crucial than he had anticipated, for reasons he couldn't fathom.

"Reno is not coming with us," Tseng explained as the door slid shut. "We need him here in case we need to contact Loz, and vice versa. Please take a seat opposite the President. Can I get you a drink – tea, perhaps?" he asked, already pouring in a glass of water for Rufus.

"I'm all right."

"Very well. Here are some sleeping pills and water if you would like to take them for this journey. We heard you cannot tolerate motion. The flight to Junon is approximately three hours."

Tseng passed over a small metal tin, and made sure Yazoo took his designated seat before settling into his own – across the aisle from his boss, in a place where he was only in peripheral vision. When Yazoo glanced out of the window, Reno was in plain view. The Turk waved enthusiastically, as though he was sending Yazoo off on his first day of school. His aquamarine eyes were alight with pride, and his shouts were drowned out by the whirrs of the helicopter's blades.

"He bought me Balmorals," Rufus remarked lightly, "but I can't wear them."

Yazoo was yet to understand how Rufus worked and how he let his conversations unfold. Heavily influenced by warnings of the President, Yazoo was constantly trying to catch double meanings in Rufus' words. So far, however, he was just at a loss for even the single meaning – what were Balmorals?

According to Yuffie, Rufus Shinra was a schemer and a two-faced bastard. Cloud said that Rufus would do anything to accomplish his goals, no matter how many were hurt. It was weird, thinking that this terrible personality lived in the man opposite him, for Rufus was still staring out of the window as though he wished for nothing more than to leap out of it. Yazoo would have dismissed these warnings, if it wasn't for the fact that Rufus had played a prominent role in Kadaj's death.

A few seconds later, Rufus straightened, exhaled and finally met Yazoo's eyes. He smiled crookedly, steeped his fingers and leaned forwards. Yazoo couldn't ignore the shadows under his eyes.

"Yazoo," he sighed, greeting him as if he hadn't spoken yet. He sounded like he was saying hello to an old friend. "I have so much to discuss with you."

The helicopter began to take off, and Yazoo considered taking the sleeping pills so that he could escape from both nausea and Rufus. He was in no mood to negotiate with him; in all honesty, he wanted to sort out Deanes, turn the chopper around and go straight home. He glanced at the metal tin, and Rufus noticed.

"In a moment, I promise," he said. "A three hour flight with only me for company will surely have you clawing at these windows like there's no hope for tomorrow, so I will condense it and let you sleep for the journey. Five minutes is all I ask."

Yazoo was quite pleased with himself for sussing out Rufus already. Rufus wasn't asking for time, he was asking for Yazoo's trust. Sure enough, when Yazoo gave the go ahead with a small nod, Rufus sank back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. He reached for his glass of water, inching towards it with a frail hand.

"First and foremost, I'd like to apologise for the administration of your termination drug. My plan – as Reno will probably have revealed – was to use your reformed selves to promote ShinRa, and dispose of you afterwards. However, I am now going to tell you everything."

Rufus smiled, and Yazoo scoffed at it. His sudden annoyance made him forget he was flying. "You've told me all I need to know. I know I need ShinRa's help if I'm ever to find a cure, and you're using that for your own benefits. Without your help, I'll die."

"Oh, the irony," said Rufus. He rubbed the side of his head and again, offered a calculating smile. Yazoo couldn't understand the man opposite him and to his horror, his own betrayal. He was willing to bargain with the people who ruined him, his brothers and Vincent. So was it a mark of devotion to save Loz, or was it his selfish desperation to live that was coming through?

They fell into silence, and it was then that Yazoo was aware of how much noise the blades of the helicopter made. Their steady whirring prompted him to look out the window, and Midgar rolled underneath them.

Rufus sank back in his chair, massaging a temple with two long fingers. In the moment of quiet, Yazoo vaguely tried to guess Rufus' age (settling for twenty-six) and pretended he was pondering the President's recent words. Really, Yazoo couldn't care less about 'everything' Rufus had to tell. All that mattered was Loz, and saving him.

"So..." Yazoo began, realising that Rufus was in no hurry to talk, and prompting was needed. "Why are you accompanying me? Surely the whole crew isn't needed for this trivial mission. From your perspective, it's just to save two failed experiments."

"I need to leave Midgar for a while," said Rufus. "A day trip to Junon sounds rather appealing and I want to hear your accomplishments as soon as possible. No, I'm lying."

He laughed jovially, but it morphed into a wheezy cough and Rufus covered his mouth. Yazoo watched as Rufus' eyes watered and he fumbled for his glass of water.

"Nasty cold," Rufus managed, and still he scrabbled for the glass. He was only millimetres away, yet he didn't seem to notice. By the time Yazoo had worked out in his head what to do, Tseng was already doing it. The Turk leapt to his feet, passed the water and Rufus practically seized it. When he had recovered, he surprised Yazoo by laughing all over again. Tseng seemed oblivious to the uncharacteristic reaction.

"Why am I accompanying him to see Deanes?" he repeated, addressing the Turk. "What do you think? Shall I tell him now? Or can Yazoo work it out on his own?"

The more Yazoo stared, the thinner the clouds of confusion became. It was so obvious, Rufus' plan, his need to use Yazoo, his desperation in doing so.

"You're ill," he said.

Rufus flashed a smile at Tseng, satisfied. Then, he turned back to Yazoo. "Very good. I have been ill for two years, with a disease that stumps doctors far and wide. I am always so tired, so weak and brittle. My eyesight is going at such a rapid rate, one day I will wake up and find the world has left me behind."

Part of Tseng's aloof demeanour seemed to break at this. He inhaled deeply, although he barely moved. Yazoo just registered the sound and could empathise with him.

"So I will explain everything, Yazoo, every detail to the situation you are in, every detail of mine, in the hopes that that will never happen."

Slowly, Yazoo nodded. Rufus sank further into his chair, staring through the edge table in front of him in deep thought.

"We foiled your plans for Mother, and Kadaj and Sephiroth died. I sent Reno to check the scene, and he retrieved two people – namely, you and your brother Loz. Considering the size of the explosion, it's impressive you both survived. Loz suffered the most damage." Here, Rufus' voice dropped a notch and he added, "I can only assume he shielded you in the last second."

He wanted to die on that day, Yazoo remembered. He had watched Kadaj leave and all reason to live was dashed in that tiny second. Why did Loz save him? He only needed to think for a moment before knowing the answer – Loz had wanted to live just when he was so close to dying.

"Reno and Elena took care of you on my instructions, despite their obvious desire to finish you both off. You see, I kept you alive because I knew that some time later, you would prove invaluable to the rebuilding of my company. I planned to have you as a walking advertisement with a timer above his head. After your effect wore off, I'd quietly have you killed. You were saved for that reason alone."

Rufus exhaled and looked up. Yazoo's face was burning, but his glower had no effect. Yazoo wondered how Rufus could come up with such a terrible plan and never bat an eyelid at the cruelty of it, and then, with a sickening blow to his guts, he remembered how Kadaj had been just the same.

"Up until now, Reno's been your main point of call," continued Rufus. "Once again, on my orders, he informed you of the termination. At that point, I had discovered my illness, perhaps prompted by Geostigma, was steadily growing worse. It's been two long years, and doctors still do not know what I have. They say I am alive when I shouldn't be. And it was then that I realised that I need a scientist, not a doctor. Someone who has the expertise to go beyond what's already known, venture into the _unknown_. You seem to know where I'm heading."

"Deanes."

"Precisely. Tseng informed me that you had gone to Nibelheim to retrieve your files – ones which you hid so long ago, and I could hardly contain myself. I wanted to get my hands on it straight away, and even thought of asking Rude to thieve them from you. But, of course, you forgot it and it landed with Reno. Tseng read your file on my behalf and pinpointed Deanes as the one who played a prominent role in your creation and development. Deanes enhanced your vision and boosted your immune system. Tseng dropped hints to Reno about this particular scientist. Reno – quite oblivious to how I used him, I'm afraid – relayed this to you. And here you are."

Rufus had the audacity to gesture with his left hand, showing his open palm in a welcoming way. "If you recruit Deanes to work for ShinRa again and persuade him to save me, I will fund and provide all the equipment and aides he needs to save you and your brother."

"That's fair," Yazoo replied, but he cut off Rufus' mechanical smile with a smirk of his own, "but I have something to add to our deal – save Vincent as well, and I'll get Deanes for you."

"I'll include Vincent," Rufus said warmly, and all hatred for him vanished until he continued, "at the price of Loz, that is."

Yazoo glowered straight away, but it went amiss as Rufus closed his eyes and rested his head back.

"I'll let you think it over, Yazoo, but let me tell you this: it's not a scientist Vincent needs to save him. Now, let us sleep. Fatigue has caught up with me again."

And Tseng, the well behaved Turk whose obedience Yazoo was growing to hate, stepped forwards to help Rufus make himself more comfortable, sleeping pills in hand. Dully, Yazoo watched the only Turk who seemed immune to Rufus' tendency to treat people like puppets. Tseng loosened the seatbelt, eased the armchair's back lower and covered him with a light grey blanket. Rufus muttered some thanks before drifting into sleep, and Yazoo realised that it was the first time he had seen any humanity in the President.

* * *

Yazoo floated in and out of consciousness during the flight, courtesy to the torrent of thoughts that plagued his mind. By the time they reached Junon's heliport, Yazoo was desperate to escape from the aircraft and taste fresh air.

As soon as he stepped out, a warm gust of wind greeted him, clearing his nostrils and if possible, lightening the burden of lives on his shoulders. After a few seconds, though, the strong wind irritated him, whipping his hair into his eyes. Yazoo swore that Rude had the tiniest trait of a smirk, clearly having an advantage with a bald head.

He was in a silent crowd, something he wasn't quite used to, now that he was part of 7th Heaven. Rude had very little to contribute to the conversation, Rufus was still sleeping and Tseng would only talk business. So, deciding that there was a first time for everything, Yazoo was extremely glad to see Elena running over to greet them.

"_Finally_," she huffed. "Cookie doesn't listen to a word I say and Deanes has barricaded himself. Again."

She shook a brown bundle in her arms and Yazoo noticed it was not a cuddly doll as he assumed, but a real life puppy, scrabbling for its master. He watched the animal, aware that this was the pet Rufus and selected Turks had gone to the trouble of buying and training.

"Cookie?" Yazoo repeated, and Elena treated him to a scathing look.

"She already came with a name," she replied matter-of-factly. She thrust the puppy into Tseng's arms, dusted her suit free from dog hair and took out her gun, whirling it round an index finger. "Come on then, Yazoo. You know your mission."

Tseng, somehow managing to look respectable with a puppy chewing on his collar, coughed lightly for attention. "Yazoo, Elena is going to take you to Deanes' residence. She has been keeping an eye on him since we made ourselves known. Rude will go with you, in case there's a need of intervention."

Yazoo laughed bitterly. Rufus had planned this very well, anticipating a fight on Yazoo's part. After all, he was seeing his creator again in so many years. What if Yazoo's fury got the better of his mission to rescue himself and the President? Rufus would use Rude to break up the fight and pull Yazoo back to his senses. Flawless, really. Yazoo had to hand it to the man.

"I will be on the seafront with the President and...Cookie," Tseng said. "Please meet us back there when you are done." He turned, rigid as ever, and pushed the wheelchair.

"He's not coming with us?" Yazoo asked.

"Deanes won't listen to a word the President says until you convince him otherwise." She sniffed rather haughtily, and Yazoo assumed she was annoyed with how important a role a clone like him had. "Things would have been so much easier if Deanes agreed to help when I held him at gunpoint."

"He didn't?"

"No, he preferred to be shot." She gestured to a small off road. "This way. Rude, I might need you break down the door if Deanes refuses to take down his fortress of furniture."

Rude merely nodded and they took another turn. Yazoo couldn't ignore the daunting company he was in: Elena was loading extra bullets into her gun as she walked, Rude was flexing his hands as though anticipating a brawl.

"Something you might want to know about Deanes, Yazoo," she said sharply. "He's chosen the wrong time to feel remorse for the things he did. He's a coward, locking himself away, shouting empty threats of suicide. He's also the only person who can save the President's life. It goes without saying that if you fail your mission, you'll leave Deanes' house with new enemies."

Yazoo always had Reno down as the passionate Turk, but he was now reconsidering. Elena's cheeks were pink, her eyes ablaze, and her hands kept fidgeting with her gun.

"He's trained you very well," he replied, implying Rufus. "You're his lackeys through and through. He's used every one of you, used _me_ to save his own skin and has planned it so I can't refuse."

"Exactly," Elena snapped. "The President left you with the goodie goodies in 7th Heaven, so that you have people you care about, and people who care in return. You previously had no reason to live, and the President merely changed that to bring you here."

"It's the only way people will save him," retorted Yazoo. "If he traps them in a corner and makes them. No one in their right mind would lend a hand if he simply asked."

"Wrong. You're very wrong, Yazoo." Her voice wobbled, brimming with aggressive defensiveness. "You don't know the first thing about the President. Criticise him any more and I'll lay down a thousand insults for your own master."

"What?" Yazoo said without thinking. Then, he remembered who he was talking to. Elena laughed, and it was far from kind.

"Your little brother Kadaj," she said derisively. "I might follow ShinRa like a lap dog, but its President doesn't peel off my fingernails. Do you know what I mean?"

"I--" Yazoo started.

"Our President doesn't carve pictures into Tseng's back with two blades; he doesn't lick blood from his fingers! He doesn't laugh when Tseng cries, he doesn't--"

"Elena," Rude said, his voice rising a tad. "Deanes' house?"

She stopped both her steps and her words. Still looking rather heated, she glanced at her surroundings and her lips tightened.

"...We've gone past it. It's back here."

Elena marched ahead, ignoring Yazoo and brushing past him like he was just another streetlight. Deanes' house was overlooking a small alleyway, facing away from the harbour. Elena tried the door and sighed with impatience.

"Deanes!" she shouted, banging on the heavy wood with a fist. "Open up, or I'll shoot the lock _again_."

There was no reply, so Elena did just this, pushing against the door with her face contorted.

"Hello? Rude?" she snapped. He went forward, opening the door and pushing back the pile of furniture with ease. Yazoo saw a dining chair fall off a coffee table and crash onto the emerald floor inside. The strong smell of dust reached his nostrils, and Yazoo realised that on ShinRa's re-entrance into his life, Deanes was afraid to go beyond his home. Still furious with Elena, Yazoo actually thought about failing to recruit Deanes, just to spite her, but Rude took him to one side before they followed after Elena.

"Our President's life is in your hands. Elena made that clear." Rude made a gesture, as if he was going to take off his sunglasses. However, he rubbed the side of his head instead. "If he dies, he dies five deaths."

**

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****A/N: **And there you have it! Everything's been revealed (or so I hope) and Yazoo's been driven into the corner. I dunno if anyone feels a shred of sympathy for Rufus, it's all a bit ambiguous really, but I do like the guy and his band of Turks. I'm playing on the idea that Reno and co stick with Rufus in AC, even when ShinRa's been destroyed – I guess that's the extent of their loyalty...

Anyway, comments and feedback are appreciated! I'm hoping to update soon with this fic and Ameagari, so stay tuned! Thanks for reading! :)


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